Unfinished Business
by Absentia
Summary: A collection of unfinished fics I wanted to go on and share. Variety Pack. MultiPairs, Rated for a reason. 22: Raven and Speedy geek out, and Speedy can't keep his hands to himself.
1. A Sorta Fairytale

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**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc.

**Author's Note**: A collection of my unfinished fanfictions that I never bothered posting, and otherwise might _never _have bothered posting. Some of them, despite that I might never return to them, I really enjoyed, and decided to share. :) I hope you enjoy my broken off chunks, random scenes, idea pieces, and unanchored beginnings.

**Summary**: This installment was an AU idea set in a world without superheroes or demon daddies, where our Titans are all regular people living nonetheless interesting lives. Try not to lynch me for the unexpected infusion of Bruce/Arella. ;p Our Heroes are in there, I promise.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this. Also, the title of this one, "A Sorta Fairytale", is borrowed from a song by Tori Amos.

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It began with a love story.

He, the handsome businessman, traveled far to the land of the rising sun to endorse his most recent investment venture, and also to meet with a dear, old friend.

She, the mysteriously beautiful mystic, had set aside three months to learn with the masters and find her center in the sage dojos and ancient temples of Japan.

He came to visit with his old friend, the aging master who had taught him many things some years ago, and came into the beautiful garden. She was there, seated at the master's feet as the old man related philosophy and balance.

And so the unlikely pair met.

For the two weeks remaining of his stay, they were inseparable, matching wits and skills, sharing painful pasts and the whys and hows of the present. When the time drew near that he would have to leave, he asked her to come with him. As his wife.

Delighted and in love and happier than she had been in many years, she accepted. They were married in a lovely ceremony, made plans for the future, and set out on a plane, intent upon making a happily ever after.

It was blissfully, perfectly romantic, with all the promise of a great love story.

But theirs is not the story you are about to hear.

The story you will read below is the story of two people who did not know of this romance until the "happily ever after" began to be written. Two people whose story begins where the love story ought to end.

Their children.

Raven Roth jerked a pair of cargo pants over her hips, hopping a bit so the hems cleared her heels. Cradling her cell phone between shoulder and ear, she began fastening the waistband.

"Tell me about it, Jinx. Arella never comes home early from these trips. I'm actually kind of worried."

"Maybe she reached nirvana ahead of schedule? You know how your mom gets sometimes when she goes on these kicks of hers; she's totally unpredictable."

Raven paused a moment before she answered, dragging a black scoop-neck long sleeved shirt over her head and fumbling to keep from dropping the phone. Thrusting her hands into view through the overlong cuffs, she blew a lock of short violet hair away from her mouth and replied, "I know, but usually she ends up being away longer, not coming back sooner. It's unusual behavior."

Jinx—Raven's particular nickname for Jennifer Hexler—paused a moment, considering. "Well, maybe it's something completely harmless. I mean, it doesn't have to spell doom and gloom every time your mother acts out of character, Rae."

The ironic lilt at the end of her friend's voice made Raven frown. "Maybe not doom and gloom, but it's never good news." Sighing inaudibly, she sat on her bed and began tying the laces of her black ankle boots. "I have a feeling that something big is about to happen, and that I'm really not going to like it."

"You don't like much of anything, surprises especially." Jinx sighed as well, with much gusto and dramatic flair. "Oh, Rae, you didn't have another of your weird dreams again, did you?"

Raven's frown became a scowl. Jinx always spoke as if she were teasing and derisive, and though Raven knew her friend very much believed in Raven's dreams and feelings, the tone and attitude grated no less. "No dreams, just a… an instinct. A foreboding feeling in the pit of my stomach, if you will."

"Mmm, that's probably last night's cold pizza and herbal tea." There was a pause, as if she could see the tightening of Raven's jaw, or the roll of her lapis eyes, and then Jinx laughed. "That's a weird combination and you know it. You drink tea _all_ the time; it can't be healthy."

"Healthier than your sugar addiction."

"I have a sweet tooth, so sue me."

"Oh, if only I had the legal grounds, Hexler…"

"Ah, shut up and go meet Arella at the airport. Call me back when she drops the bomb."

"Of course; I'll need you to bail me out after I kill her."

"Nah, I'll let you rot."

"Who would put up with your pink-haired skinny ass then?"

"My harem of lovers, of course."

Raven chuckled softly and rolled her eyes. "Later Jinx."

"See ya, sweetie."

Raven flipped the phone shut with a shake of her head and stuck it in the clip on her hip, hiding it when she pulled on her navy blue jacket.

With a last glance around the spare apartment with its half-unpacked boxes and blank white walls, she exited the living space that would never get a chance to be home and walked with a growing sense of dread into the future that lay before her.

--

"You _got married_?" Dick Grayson could feel his jaw hanging somewhere level with his belly button, and his eyes were so wide they felt liable to pop right out. He knew he looked stupid, but some situations threw "cool" out the window.

Such as your guardian of eight years suddenly coming home from Japan—with a ring on his finger.

Bruce Wayne smiled cool amusement at his adopted son's comical expression and jerked on the lapels of his designer blazer to get the cloth to sit just right across his broad shoulders. "Don't be juvenile about it, Dick. I'm a grown man. I'll make whatever decisions I choose."

Dick found himself making meandering hand gestures in the air, as if his hands were trying to pick up the slack in expressing his shock that his words weren't apparently conveying. "But _you_… you got _married_. You were in Japan less than a _month_, Bruce! How the hell did you get _married_?"

Bruce gave him a dry look and reminded him of his rule about asking stupid questions. "We stood in front of an altar and made vows and exchanged rings, and there was a kiss and a certificate involved as well." He blithely ignored the flying middle finger the younger man shot him. "We fell in love, Dick. It happens."

"Not to _you_," Dick protested. "Hate to break it to you, 'Pop', but you're kind of what the girls at school call a 'manslut'. You're not really… the most _committed_ kind of guy, you know?"

Bruce wore an expression that could _almost_ be called making a face, on someone less dignified and charming, of course. "I raised you the past eight years, and I'm the CEO of my own Fortune 500 company. How is that not _committed_?"

Dick scoffed. "Do you remember that time you made _five_ dates for the same night and forgot about two of them?"

Bruce waved a hand dismissively. "That's in the past. Arella is…" Dick felt his insides quiver at the soft, adoring expression that briefly overcame Bruce's feature, "special." He looked at Dick and smiled, ignoring the perturbed look he wore. "When you meet her, you'll understand what I mean. I mean to have this woman by my side for the rest of my life, Dick. And she's willing to be there."

Dick's mouth flat lined, his eyebrows drawing down moodily over his eyes. "Sure she is. Have you considered maybe this is some opportunistic money grubber latching on to _the_ Bruce Wayne?"

Bruce shot him a dirty glance and straightened his cuffs. "I'm not exactly an imbecile. I know a gold digger when I see when. I've had plenty of them throwing themselves at my for years. Money is not one of Arella's concerns."

"No?" Dick asked skeptically. "What, she's got her own billions and doesn't need yours?"

Bruce shook his head, surreptitiously smoothed his hair in the hall mirror. "It isn't like that, Dick. Trust me. You'll see once you've met her."

Dick pursed his lips sourly. "And when will that be? Why didn't she come home on the same flight with you? You two being newlyweds and all."

Bruce checked his watch, nodded to himself, and bent down to pick up his briefcase. "She came back to the states on an earlier flight a few days ago to get her affairs in order. She needed to see to her previous situation, of course, before she moved in here with us."

Dick paused, feeling slightly queasy inside. Despite that he was slowly coming to grips with the idea that Bruce _had gotten married_, it had somehow not occurred to him that his adoptive father's new wife would be _living_ with them until this moment. This was going to be _weirder_ than he'd thought. "So, uh… when's she coming here?"

Bruce gave him a look like he expected better from him and started walking towards the front door. "Put two and two together, Dick. You think I made you dress in your good clothes because I like the way you look in them? We're leaving to pick her and her daughter up from the airport in just a moment."

Dick stopped in mid-stride, his mouth gaping once again. "Wait, what… what the _hell_? He _daughter_? There's _more_ to this crazy fairytale?" Approaching wit's end, he began massaging his temples. "Some impulsive new wife is bad enough, but a whiny _kid_ in the picture, too? Bruce, are you nuts?"

Bruce looked at him with a mix of impatience and a wiser-than-thou sagacity. "Love frequently makes people do things that seem insane to others, but no. And anyways, I doubt Arella's daughter would appreciate being called a 'whiny kid'. She's about your age, you know." Bruce suddenly turned round and leveled him with a stern stare. "And I expect you not to make things unnecessarily difficult, Dick. Try and make them both feel welcome, understand?"

Dick closed his mouth with a decided click of his teeth, and deliberately gave Bruce's turned back his "model student" smile, a mutinous ember of discontent at all these sudden shock and changes foisted upon him beginning to burn behind his breastbone. "Sure. Just think of me as the chief executive of the welcoming committee."

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AN**: ) Hope you enjoyed. Drop me a line, and look out for the next bit of unfinished business. It will be out... rapidly. ;)


	2. Listen Here

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. Raven/Red X this go-round.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This time we'll go with Romance/Drama

**Author's Note**: :D Abbie's doing _multi-posts_! Enjoy it while it lasts. Bwahahahaha...

**Summary**: On today's episode of Unfinished Business, Red X and Raven are trapped togethere in an underground deathtrap after the collapse of a parking garage in which she had been attempting to apprehend the cheeky thief. With no sign of imminent escape, they are forced to wait until rescue arrives. And when you're stuck in one space with someone for a few hours, you'd be surprised the things you get to talking about...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this (except the writing!).

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Raven grunted and strained, her breath puffing and small sounds of effort escaping her gritted teeth as she shoved and heaved at the looser rocks and debris. Despite her efforts, however, she didn't seem to be getting anywhere, wherever it was she thought she was going, anyways. She was, after all, trapped some forty miles below ground, and the crumbled wall of the large subbasement she was digging at wasn't very likely to give way to the surface.

"I don't know why you're even bothering with that, dollface. Seriously, what good do you think tossing a couple of stones around is going to do?"

Raven turned a scalding glare on the speaker, as much irritated with the way he seemed to be reading her mind as his presence alone. Red X simply sat cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the space, calmly shaking a rock out of his boot instead of bursting into flame as she wished. Surly and a little panicked, Raven petulantly refused to reply and went back to her useless digging, just to spite the thief.

There was a moment of silence, followed by the small patter of a stone tumbling out of the boot, then finally ended by X's condescending remark. "You've obviously been spending far too much time with the birdboy. Trying to solve all your problems with physical force." Raven glanced over her shoulder in time to see him shake his head as if it was all a shame. "I mean, did you just forget you have superpowers? Now would be a good time to use them."

His logic only increased Raven's ire, and while she briefly considered explaining to him that she was in no emotional state to be more than doubtfully effective with her powers, she decided it was beneath her. Besides, why _not_ try her powers? Sure, she wasn't exactly brick steady at the moment, but maybe she could get them out anyways. If she stayed down here any longer, her claustrophobia and other problems would surely handicap her beyond usefulness. Better to try while she had at least a slim chance.

"You want power? Fine," she snapped, "but don't blame me if I bring the whole damn place down."

That caught Red X's attention. In a blink, he was up, his hands extended as if trying to placate a cornered animal. "Ah, what? Now wait a second—"

Paying him no mind, Raven stared with eyes glazed white at the cracked cement ceiling, but instead of enveloping the two of them in her soulself and phasing them up through the layers of bedrock, a white-limned black beam shot upwards, punching a hole through the already unsteady canopy.

"Shit!" Red X launched himself at Raven, catching her around the waist just in time to knock her from beneath a chunk of falling ceiling as everything began to shake apart.

The wind escaped Raven's lungs as her back hit the floor hard, Red X covering her body beneath his. "Do something!" he shouted in her ear, and Raven reacted instinctively, erecting a dome of power she expanded quickly outward to reinforce the room.

The shaking and rumbling faded away after a tense moment and they were left in the silence with nothing but ragged breathing and thumping hearts. After a few seconds ticked by, X eased back and onto his knees, supporting his weight on his hands. "Jesus Christ." His head tilted up and he fixed his gaze on Raven as she rose sorely to a sitting position. "What the hell was that? Were you trying to kill us both?"

Raven took stock of her injuries and decided she would survive, though not without a cornucopia of colorful bruises. "Yes. Because this is exactly how I've always wanted to die. Trapped in my own little subterranean piece of Hell, with one of the most annoying men I've ever met."

"Har, har. You're a damn laugh riot, Sunshine.

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**AN**: This is obviously only where this idea began. Unlike the previous entry, this one has the possibility--likelihood, rather--of being continued. :) If you like the taste, let me know if you want a full meal?


	3. Breaking Up the Girl

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. This one's Robin/Raven

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is Romance/Humor/Drama

**Author's Note**: Third installment, people! Expect two or three more tonight, and maybe more further down the road--I'm still undecided.

**Summary**: An AU where all the kids are grown up and normal folk. Richard and Raven have been friends for years, and there's no one closer. He's been with her through all her hard times, and she with him--through all his many relationships. Richard has been following in the lady's man ways of his adopted father, Bruce Wayne, since high school--and Raven's always been the one to help him clean up his inevitable messes. After an argument about Raven's reclusive behavior following a bad relationship, they strike a bet to go out on dates with as many people as it takes to find someone to fall in love--real love--with. The story follows the ups, downs, ins and outs of these two hapless lovers navigating the dangerous world of romance--and the love they find in the most unexpected places.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this (except the writing!). Also, the working title of this one, "Breaking Up the Girl", is borrowed from a song by Garbage.

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Raven opened the door of her humble studio apartment to let her cat, Azar, out for a roam in the hallway and came face-to-chest with the red button-down shirt of Richard Grayson.

Blinking and stepping back, Raven allowed Azar to slip past her ankles and inclined her chin to look quizzically up into Richard's grinning, slightly bashful face. "Dick? What the hell're you doing here? I thought tonight was your three month anniversary with Helena."

Richard bounced on the heels of his two-hundred dollar black loafers and shoved his hands into his slacks pockets, tossing off one of those knee-melting grins that had him plastered on the cover of _People_ last year. "Hey, isn't that one of mine?"

Raven glanced down at herself, taking in the pale blue dress shirt that slipped off one slender shoulder and fell to just above her knees, shaking back an overlong cuff to brush a strand of short violet hair behind her ear. Rolling her eyes, she turned away from the door and strode back into the apartment in the direction of the kitchen area. "You know better than to leave your shit here; it's mine now, unless you want to forcibly strip me of it." Stopping by the island, she turned to point a tapered finger at him as he kicked the door shut behind him. "And don't even think of saying it. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, you perv."

Richard grinned at her and kicked his shoes off carelessly beside her umbrella stand. Loping past her into the kitchen, he opened her stainless steel fridge and peered into it speculatively. "Wouldn't dream of it. You have any wine?"

"Oh no, Boy Blunder, you are not getting shitfaced and passing out on my couch again, not after last time," she warned, employing her old nickname for him as she shoved him away from the refrigerator with a bump of her hip. "Get a pair of spoons from the drawer."

Richard shook his head, smiling, and did as commanded while Raven retrieved a carton of Breyer's vanilla fudge brownie ice cream from the freezer compartment. "Bowls?" he inquired, pausing with his hand on the cabinet door.

Raven scoffed, snatching a spoon from his other hand. "Do we ever?"

Richard grunted agreeably and followed her into the living room area, toying with his spoon. The pair seated themselves on the floor, Richard leaning against the black leather armchair with his legs extended, Raven positioning herself opposite him, back against the white loveseat and legs to either side of his, crooked at the knees.

"I can see your panties," Richard pointed out teasingly, poking her thigh with a socked toe.

Raven scowled at him and peeled the lid off the ice cream carton. "Oh, I'm so sure you care. And yes, before you ask, and you will, they're Victoria's Secret."

Richard laughed and dropped his head back against the armchair's seat. "And black, of course. How you."

Raven sighed and rolled her eyes. "Not that I don't enjoy the company and the witty banter, but again, what are you doing here, Dick? What happened with Helena?"

_Straight to the point as always, Rae_, he thought wryly. But that was part of why she was his closest friend in the world. "Helena, ah… came home early."

Raven snorted and nudged his knee with her foot in encouragement to continue as she dipped into the carton.

"I was, uh… with Babs. In the biblical sense." He paused, as if for effect. "On the kitchen counter."

"Oh gods," Raven groaned around a spoonful of frozen dessert.

"Yeah. She threw Babs out and came at me with a barbecue fork."

Raven laughed cynically. "I don't blame her. I was wondering when you were gonna cheat on this one, Dick; don't look at me like that, we both knew it was only a matter of time. You're about as monogamous as you are celibate."

Richard sighed gustily. "Yeah, you're right. To be honest with you, I've been doubling with Babs for three weeks."

"Jesus, Dick. Did Barbara know?" shaking her head pityingly, she passed him the carton, and he dug in for a big spoonful.

"Well, yeah. We just got to talking about old times late after work one night, and, well, one thing led to another…" He stuck the spoon in his mouth. "Mmmf, cold."

Raven held her hand out demandingly for the return of the carton. "One thing always leads to another with you, Dick."

"Not always," he retorted indignantly, passing back the ice cream. "Not with you."

She stared at him wryly, a sardonic smirk on her plump lips. "You've never _had_ one thing with me, Dick, much less another."

"Now that just isn't true," Richard wagged a finger at her, quick to defend his accomplishments. "We've kissed, at that one New Year's shindig at Bruce's, you remember?"

Raven succumbed to a surprised burst of laughter. "Yeah, I remember, though I'm amazed you do. You were drunk off your ass, and about choked me on your stupid tongue. It was the single worst kiss of my entire life."

Richard winced dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if wounded. "Ouch. You're so mean."

She licked a spot of fudge from her spoon in a slow, exaggerated motion, mocking him with laughing lapis eyes. "I'm not mean, I'm brutally honest. It's one of the things you treasure most about me."

Shaking his head and brushing the hanging black bangs from his vivid blue eyes, Richard smiled at her. "Remind me again of why?"

Raven lifted her chin self-importantly, mouth turning up at the corners smugly. "Because I am the only thing keeping you from suffocating beneath your own bloated ego."

"No, we can't have that. Oh, Raven, where would I be without your cutting sarcasm and double-edged insights?"

"In the emergency room, with a barbecue fork sticking out of your ass."

"…Yeah, probably."

"Damn right."

Richard sighed again and pushed away from the armchair with his hands, drawing up his legs and executing a neat little about face without ever standing up. Lying back, he wedged his broad shoulders between Raven's legs and rested his head on her abdomen, fingers lacing over his ribcage.

Raven looked down at him, a weary but fond smirk on her mouth and offered him the ice cream from her spoon. He swallowed the bite quickly and Raven set aside carton and spoons on the coffee table to her right.

Richard stared up at the white ceiling as Raven threaded her fingers through his hair comfortingly. "Women are way too much trouble. Maybe I should just stick with you, Rae. You're wonderfully uncomplicated."

He missed the brief wince on Raven's features. "You're assuming I'd take you. I know you far too well for that, Dick. And you know, you'd find women much less complicated if you weren't such a playboy."

"Yeah, well, I've never found any girl that I really wanted to be that committed to. I mean, you always hear about 'the one', and how you're supposed to feel that something 'special' and all that romantic bullshit. I've never found any one girl that I felt anything more special than lust for." He shrugged, an awkward move in their position. "Besides, I never tell any of the girls I get involved with that I love them, or wanna be with them forever, or that she's my one and only. They all know my rep; they know damn well what they're risking hooking up with me. It's their own damn fault for thinking they can be the one to 'change' me and then getting pissed at me because they can't."

Raven sighed through her nose tiredly, the expelled air rustling the hair feathering over Richard's forehead. "You're hopeless."

Richard's mouth twisted unpleasantly; Helena had said—well, screamed, rather—the same thing when she'd chased him out of her apartment. "Well, you know what Raven, maybe _you_ should try being hopeless for once. I mean, when was the last time you went out with a guy more than once?"

Raven frowned down at him sourly, pulling her hand from his hair. "I have high standards."

Richard sat up and twisted at the waist to look her in the face. "Hell yeah, you do, on purpose. When was the last time you even got laid?"

Raven's cheeks pinked uncomfortably, her frown deepening into a foreboding scowl.

Richard was unimpressed, his eyebrows raising expectantly. "Well?"

Raven growled low in her throat and folded her arms beneath her breasts sullenly. "Last Christmas, you nosy bastard."

One dark brow drew down, the other remaining raised high skeptically. "That long ago? With who?"

"Roy Harper, if you must know. I cannot believe I'm telling you this."

"Roy?" Richard laughed incredulously. "Green Arrow Industries, Roy Harper? Are you shitting me?"

She did not answer, but subjected him to one of her more intense glowers.

"Was he good?"

Raven slapped him on the chest, hard. "None of your damn business!"

"Well, come on, I had to ask. They've got to call him 'Speedy' for a reason."

"Well, I wouldn't know. It was a one time thing, and we were both pretty buzzed." She sniffed haughtily and cast her glare to the side, tired of directing it at Richard with no effect. She figured the potted fern across the room would shrivel and die sooner than Richard Grayson would relent.

"Come on, Raven. You've got to get out of this Ice Queen stage. You've been anti-romance ever since—"

"Don't say it." She turned back to him sharply, her tone harsh and unyielding, her big, dark blue eyes pleading. "Don't say it, Richard."

Richard sighed, his grin fading rapidly. He understood what had happened; he'd been there to help her pick up her pieces in the aftermath. But even still, he knew that he couldn't just let Raven force herself into romantic isolation forever. She was a truly great girl, and deserved to be happy; but she was too guarded and wary to risk letting something good happen to her.

"Raven…"

She stood up abruptly, smoothing the oversize shirt over her lap. "I need to go let Azar in. Could you put the ice cream back in the freezer please?"

Avoiding his concerned gaze, she moved past him and to the front door, opening it halfway and calling crooningly for her cat. Clenching his jaw on all the things he felt like saying and knew he shouldn't, he picked up the melting carton of ice cream and headed into the kitchen.

As he rinsed the spoons in the sink, Raven came into the kitchen, Azar following at her heels. She opened a can of catfood for the feline as Richard toweled off his hands, pointedly not looking at her.

After a moment of tense silence broken only by the sounds of a hungry cat, Raven turned towards him with a small, obviously forced smile. "So. Want to watch a movie?"

Richard studied her face carefully for a moment, then replied lightly, "Sure."

Raven forced another little smile and nodded, gliding quietly past him and back into the living room area, stopping before the sleek black entertainment center and perusing her DVD collection. "How about _Nightmare Before Christmas_?"

"Ah. Tim Burton. Classic."

Raven slid the disk into the appropriate slot, turned on the surround sound, and settled herself on the large gray couch facing the plasma television. Richard sat down beside her as she pulled a deep blue afghan from the basket on the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders. Stretching his arms across the back of the couch, he propped his crossed ankles atop the coffee table and watched Raven from the corner of his eye as she pretended to become engrossed in the beginning of the movie.

He bided his silence patiently, waiting for the tension to ease out of her shoulders, for the curve of her spine to slump to a more natural, less posed position. As Jack Skellington exclaimed over "Sandy Claws" on the screen, Richard dropped an arm and settled it about Raven's shoulders, clearing his throat as he dragged her against his side.

"Raven…"

"Do we really have to do this, Richard?" he winced; it was never good when she called him that, and twice in an evening?

"I'm sorry, Raven, but I really think we do. This… isn't good for you." He gently brushed a lock of short heliotrope hair from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You're way too good for me to keep you all to myself. You deserve so much more."

She bit down on her lower lip and dropped her lashes, turning her head to frown at the carpet. "Maybe I got what I deserved. And besides, who're you to talk? Did Helena deserve you cheating with Babs?"

It was Richard's turn to frown. Ignoring the latter half of her comment, he grasped her chin gently but firmly between thumb and forefinger, bringing her back to face him. "Raven, look at me." His voice softened, and he sighed quietly. "Rae."

She looked up at him resentfully, and he removed his hand from her face, brushing more hair behind her ear. "You know damn well you didn't deserve what that son of a bitch gave you. If I ever see him again, I'll give him exactly what _he_ deserves, I swear it. Nobody gets away with doing that kind of shit to you, Rae, not while I'm around."

She lowered her gaze, and dropped her head to his shoulder, her silent thanks to his vehement defense of her, to his heated offense at how she had been treated. "Dick, I just don't think I'm ready for any kind of relationship like that yet."

"Raven, it's been two _years_."

"So? Besides, who wants to get involved with a girl with as much baggage as I'm carrying around? Let's face it, Dick, I have issues, and they're not going to go away with a psychiatric Band-Aid and a kiss from the right guy."

"So? You have issues? I've got more than my share too; I'm a playboy, you said so yourself, but you don't see me sitting home alone every night with just my cat, my laptop and a pot of herbal tea."

Raven poked him shortly in the ribs, not appreciating the jab at her spinster reclusion.

He bumped his head lightly against hers. "What say I make you a deal."

She lifted her head enough to peer up at him suspiciously, fingers twining in the fringe of the afghan. "What kind of deal?" He looked at her with an expression of utmost solemnity, and she sat back, paying careful attention; whenever Richard had _that_ look on his face, he meant business. "What sort of deal?" she repeated.

"Well, more like a pact, actually. A vow, if you will."

"Again, what _kind_?"

"A true love pact."

She stared at him for a moment, released a short bark of disbelieving laughter, then returned to staring at him incredulously when the seriousness did not leave his face. "A true love pact. You're kidding right?"

Rolling his eyes, Dick brought one knee on to the couch and shifted to face her. "No, I'm not. Hear me out." He waited until she nodded her acquiescence, ignoring the suspicion lingering in her eyes. "We'll date. Not each other, don't look at me like I'm nuts. We'll date people, regularly, you hermit, until we find someone we can love."

Raven opened her mouth to protest, but anticipating her words, he held up a hand silencingly. "One condition will be that if I go on more than three dates with a girl and don't decide to get rid of her, then I will not date, sleep with, or otherwise dally with another girl until the relationship either ends in parting, or continues in… love." The idea was strange and extremely unlikely to him, but he was willing to do it. If Raven agreed to her end, he was willing to do it.

"And what do I have to do? What are my 'conditions'?" She tilted her chin upwards, peering down her nose slightly in an unconscious gesture that made her appear very snooty, but that he knew meant she was considering him intently.

"You have to _date_. You can't purposefully drive anyone off. You have to _actually_ attempt to enjoy yourself, and actually search for someone with whom you can _actually_ be happy."

"Oh, just suck all the fun out of it why don't you." Her flippancy was met with a stern glance, and she rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. Frowning, she shifted her head to one side and narrowed her gaze on him, like focusing a laser. "Why do I have more conditions than you do?"

"Because I'm the one proposing this pact in the first place."

"Doesn't mean you're more likely to stick to the stipulations. You're a manslut, tried and true ."

He snorted and ignored the comment. "If I break my end, you can… you can… I don't know, you can devise some fitting punishment for me. And as devious and frightening a mind as you have, I daresay that if the thought of whatever tortures you might cook up isn't reason enough for me to keep my end of the bargain, nothing is."

"How flattering." Raven ran a hand through her hair, propped an elbow on the back of the couch and bit her thumbnail between her teeth, staring off into the middle distance pensively. "But what if I choose wrong again, Dick? What if I pick someone to make me happy who's only going to make me miserable? I mean, it's not like it would be the first time."

Richard sighed again, sadly. He hated what this had done to her, what it was doing to her still. Taking her hand away from her mouth, he wrapped it in his larger one, reassuringly. "I won't let that happen, Rae. I've got your back. If your knight in shining armor turns black, I'll be here to come to your rescue."

Laughing shortly, she squeezed his hand, replying drolly, "My hero."

"Always," he grinned.

She snorted, but didn't deny it. He'd been Raven's champion on more than one occasion over the years. She was secretly certain that there were many things she wouldn't have made it through without him, not that she was going to let him know that. Besides, it wasn't as if she hadn't ever been the one coming to _his_ rescue. They had a history of saving each other.

Snuggling up to him comfortably, she squeezed his hand again before taking it back and forcing her ever-errant hair behind her ear. "Yeah," she murmured.

"So… do you agree?" Richard looked down at her hopefully. He wanted this for her, very much. He wanted to see her smile more, wanted to see the light come back into her eyes. "Raven?"

Sighing gustily, the shuddering exhalation reverberating against his ribs, she nodded her head, if somewhat reluctantly. "Alright. I'll agree to your stupid pact. Maybe this way you'll actually settle down with a nice girl for once."

He grinned widely and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, chuckling. "Oh, but I am settled with a nice, girl, Rae-Rae, you."

Jabbing him sharply with her elbow, she growled low in her throat. "Don't call me that. And shut up. Watch the damn movie, Dick, you got what you wanted, so shut up and watch the movie."

Laughing and smiling, he sang happily, "Yes, dear," and returned his attention to the TV screen as Raven toggled the volume up on the remote, the better to hear Sally sing.

At that moment, a happier future for Raven on the horizon, Richard felt a lot like singing himself.

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**AN**: :D Another one with possibilities of continuation. Let me know your thoughts?


	4. The City Is At War

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. No pairings this time.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is Action/Humor/Drama

**Author's Note**: And fourth in line! A shorty this time, for a small idea sketch. This is only a small action-y scene involving Raven, BB, and a villain.

**Summary**: A group of delinquent rich children get their hands on some experimental drugs and give themselves wild superpowers, and begin going on a crime spree for kicks. Will the Titans be able to handle these spoiled overpowered teenagers--or their strange hang-ups and odd psychoses?

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this (except the writing!). Also, the working title of this one, "The City Is At War", is borrowed from a song by Cobra Starship.

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Raven and Beastboy cornered the black-masked young man between the wall and the open vault door, but by his wild grin, he was neither intimidated nor likely to surrender quietly.

"Dude, this is the part where you get on your knees and beg for mercy," Beastboy eyed the youth skeptically. "You really think you can take on two Titans at once?"

The young man laughed throatily, the large blue eyes peering from behind the mask scanning suggestively over the opposing pair. "Oh, I take all comers, and if it's submission games you're wanting," he flashed a lurid grin first at Raven, then at the green changeling, "I gotta warn you, I like being on top."

"What _is_ it with these people?" Raven muttered, then, without further preamble, she thrust out a hand towards him, a phantom claw of white-lined black snatching him and slamming him hard against the wall. "That should take care of your witty repartee."

The young man coughed once and dissolved into giggles. "You'd think, huh? You play too rough. Maybe you should sit this dance out, baby." His wink was his only warning.

Raven screamed a sharp burst, her back arching and her hands curling in against her chest as electricity crackled along her limbs and in her hair, lancing through her skin in pinpricks of agony.

A slashing of air and reverberating _thud_ ended the unexpected assault, and Raven dropped to her knees, forcing her eyes to stay open and see that BB had transformed into a massive python, and had the boy pinned full-body to the floor with a scaly coil.

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**AN**: Not likely to be continued, probably... but what did you think?


	5. And You Call Me the Villain

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. No pairings this time.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is Action/Humor/Drama

**Author's Note**: Aaaand, onto the fifth segment. This one's even shorter than the last, just a teaser idea I've poked at.

**Summary**: Red X and Robin have a conversation on a rooftop about a certain girl they both happen to want...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this (except the writing!).

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"And you call _me_ the villain, Wonder Bird?" The low purr of a voice only just preceded the black and red garbed figure from the shadows behind the gently whirring generator, and Robin's jaw and fists clenched from holding back the urge to lunge and strike. "At least I have the decency to tell a woman my intentions if I'm going to look at her with lust in my eyes."

Robin gritted his teeth, folding his arms jerkily over his chest to keep them under control. "What are you doing here, X." Just because the man hadn't committed any felonies in the last several months and lent a helping hand here and there didn't mean Robin had to like him. Especially now that he was broaching head-on the subject they had only danced and teased around.

The thief rolled his shoulders in a laconic shrug. "Playing voyeur. But so were you, so does it matter?"

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**AN**: ;p Hope you like.


	6. Fable

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. Ambiguous pairings here.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is Fantasy/Action/Drama

**Author's Note**: And now we take you to the sixth in the series. This one's rather long, but I never ended up going anywhere with it... shame, really.

**Summary**: A fantasy AU that I attempted to write in a more traditional fantasy setting, while still trying to keep the feel of Our Heroes intact. The story would have gotten very complicated and interesting if it'd been continued... Anyways. Raven is a bookkeeper with a mysterious past, but in this sleepy town, she's not the only unique character with question marks in her history. Most of these she calls friends, and all their pasts are shortly coming to catch up with them... It will take each and every one of them to save them from themselves, each other, and the things they brought with them...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this (except the writing!).

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The sun slanted golden beams through high windows, and the thick currents of dust that danced in the light lent a hushed enchantment to the air.

The room was a large and spacious one, with a high, vaulted ceiling, and most of the four walls were hidden behind great bookcases, each twice and half again as high as a man. The long shelves housed hundreds on hundreds of books: ancient tomes of obscure and priceless knowledge, collections of fairy stories and fables, and not a few private journals of long passed people.

It had begun its life as a library under the care of a man who much loved books, so much so that he never found the time to love someone else, and when he died, it became a tomb of dust and literature, abandoned and forgotten for many years by the other townspeople.

That is, of course, until a curious and lonely young woman with no home in the world and a love of the written word opened its doors to bring life to the large space and the texts it housed once more.

Raven Roth loved no place more than this, and preferred no company better than the books.

This place, in many ways, was hers and hers alone.

"Raven! Raven, you _must_ come to the market with us!"

Not to say that it was infrequently intruded upon.

Raven did not so much as turn a hair at her visitor's boisterous entrance, but merely shifted her weight upon the seventh highest rung of her ladder, transferring the book she had just selected to the crook of her arm.

Gripping the side of the tall ladder with one slender hand, the young woman turned to look over her shoulder and down at the lovely girl who stood just inside the doorway. "Hello, Kori."

Taking this acknowledgement as an invitation to enter further, Kori moved with excited steps to the foot of the ladder, beaming up at the cool literati. "Oh, Raven, you simply _must_ come with us! Won't you, please? You have been _promising_ me we would attend the market together for some time now, and I know very well that you have had to sew a third patch into the very skirt you are wearing now!"

Raven sighed quietly through her nose and eyed the bright face of the girl below speculatively. Kori had obviously prepared this argument beforehand, knowing quite well that Raven would resist and attempt to delay the promised excursion further. And there was merit in Kori's words; she'd been forced to patch this old skirt a third time not four days ago, and there was already another spot wearing thin over her left knee.

Nodding decisively, if a bit reluctantly, Raven replied, "Alright, we'll go; but I will _not_ be talked into purchasing anything unnecessary, understand? I cannot fathom how you coerced me to buy that jeweled belt last month, but I'll not fall prey to your persuasions again."

Kori clapped her hands delightedly and stifled a giggle with them as Raven descended the ladder. "But Raven, that belt looked simply magnificent, and I _saw_ how you had looked at it!"

Stepping to the floor, Raven shot the other girl a wary look beneath a single raised brow. Book in her hands, she turned on her heel and began striding across the room, weaving expertly through the haphazard tables in the center floor space, chin raised defiantly. "Well, Kori, not _all_ of us are extravagantly well off. I may be a woman of independent means, but I am in no way well to do."

Kori kept pace with her, skirting round the tables to meet Raven at her large oak desk at the opposite end of the room. "That may be, but even you can afford to indulge yourself once in a while."

Raven placed the large, leather-bound volume solidly on the desktop beside a stack of thinner volumes and leaned over them, plucking a quill pen from its inkwell to scribble something illegibly on a loose-leaf page. "Not nearly so often as you would have me to. And that belt was a foolish purchase; as is painfully obvious, I've nothing in my wardrobe nearly suitable for such a piece."

Kori leaned across the other side of the desk and smiled winningly at her, large, emerald eyes sparkling. "Which is exactly what we must seek to rectify today, yes?"

Raven sighed, replacing the quill in its well and returning Kori's broad grin with a dour frown. When the sunnily disposed girl took to an idea, there was simply no dissuading her. Despite Raven's own notorious stubbornness, Kori's whims and fancies were entirely beyond her argumentative powers. She had learned some time ago that she could save herself a grand headache and a soured temper if she just went along with Kori, and tried her best subtle defiances along the way.

Changing the subject rather abruptly, Raven swept a fall of waist-length violet hair behind her shoulder and set to unrolling the sleeves of her baggy blouse. It had once been white, but was now somewhat closer to a pale beige. "You said 'come with us'. Just who else will be attendant for this little foray?"

Kori became suddenly meek and fidgety, saying with forced lightness, "Oh, just Tara… and anyone else she might bring."

Raven's shoulders stiffened and a small line formed between her brows. Immediately, she wished she had not agreed to this. "So, Garfield at least, then."

Kori shrugged and smiled extra brightly, her fingers twisting a long fiery lock. "Yes, maybe. But you don't mind Garfield so much, do you?"

Becoming instantly suspicious of Kori's nervousness, Raven sighed again and tried to smooth some of the worst wrinkles from her shirtfront, rather uselessly. "Just his sense of humor, really. He wouldn't be nearly so unbearable if he didn't fancy himself the gods' gift to comedy."

The taller girl laughed weakly. "Yes, well. Shall we go then? Tara said she would meet us at the fountain."

Raven swept gracefully over behind the desk, lifting her beloved cloak from its peg on the wall and settling it about her shoulders. It was a deep royal blue, of fine, thick linen, and would have been dreadfully expensive if she had found it at the market. It had stolen her breath when she'd discovered it buried in the bottom of a trunk in the library's second storage room.

Lifting her hair to fall down her back, Raven turned and graced Kori with the barest of smiles. "Ready."

Grinning and energetic once more, the redhead bounced to her side. "Wonderful! Let us not make Tara wait!"

They exited the library companionably, strolling through the cool early spring air, Kori chattering amicably while Raven listened in quiet patience, commenting shortly here or there. They walked past a few lower middle class tenant buildings, and beyond there past the permanent shops such as the baker's, the shoemaker's, and the apothecary.

At last they reached the small square where four of the town's main thoroughfares intersected, and where stood a lovely, weathered fountain carved some time ago from solid marble by a local, talented sculptor.

Depicted in veined white stone, a young woman whose worn features must once have been beautiful knelt on a small platform, one delicately formed hand dipping into the pool in the fountain's basin. Twin trickles of water streamed down her stone cheeks, meeting at her chin and falling in a burbling stream into the pool over which she leaned.

No one knew the story behind the weeping marble lady, but the townsfolk enjoyed guessing at it and inventing their own reasons for her endless sadness. Formally, it was referred to as The Mourning Maiden. The sight of it always struck a resounding note of melancholy in Raven.

As the two girls drew nearer the fountain, Raven espied a figure just beyond the Maiden's outstretched hand, and stopped in her tracks as she recognized that shock of snowy white hair.

"Rorek." Eyes wide, Raven stood in the road with her fists clenched at her side, taken for a moment by the unexpected surprise of chancing upon him here. She was quite stunned…until it all clicked quite neatly into place.

Turning a glaring eye on Kori, Raven gave her best scowl and took a menacing step towards the nervously tittering redhead. "The two of you planned this together." Kori's lack of response was answer enough, and her wobbly grin merely compounded Raven's certainty. "I'm going home. I'll buy a new skirt some other day. Alone."

"But, Raven—!" Kori's weak protest was interrupted by a jubilant shout from near the fountain.

Raven eyed the lane desperately for a route of evasion, or at least a place to hide, but one glance in the direction of the shout doomed her fledgling escape plans as too late.

Tara was hurrying towards them with her long, rolling stride, Rorek gliding easily along behind her.

Groaning inwardly, Raven settled the cowl of her cloak over her head, attempting to hide her face in its shadows as Kori greeted them with relieved laughter and enthusiastic helloes.

They met Kori and Raven in the road, Tara grinning broadly all over her face, a mischievous triumph in her wide blue eyes. "Raven, I was worried you might not come! You usually manage to wiggle out of these little outings. But it's good to see you!"

Scowling sourly at the impetuous blonde whom she most days might call a friend, Raven tried to impress upon her the awful things she wished to do to her with a mighty glare. "Tara."

Undeterred by the power of Raven's evil eye, Tara tapped Rorek's forearm and gestured to the cloaked intellectual. "Rorek, you remember Raven, right?"

"Of course," Rorek dipped his snowy head towards her courteously, smiling in that quiet, singularly winsome way of his.

Feeling her heartbeat take up a quicker tempo, the look she gave Rorek was something entirely else from the one with which she had favored Tara. "Hello, Rorek. Have you finished that book I lent you?"

He smiled at her again, a bit ruefully. "Not quite, I'm afraid. Frustrating as it is, I find myself unavoidably interrupted just as I begin to make any sort of progress." His smile became a grin, a truly breathtaking sight, and his light gray eyes warmed. "I must say, you have impeccable taste; it is truly an engaging read."

Raven nodded and smiled slightly, hoping fervently her hood concealed the flush she felt warming her cheeks. "Please take your time. When you've finished it, I can recommend another to you if you'd like."

He nodded, smiling still. "I would, very much."

"Hello, hello, ladies and gent! Fear not, for Garfield Logan has arrived to rescue you from the depths of your boredom!"

The mischievous young man's entrance effectively ruined whatever might have been building between Raven and Rorek, and as the others turned to exchange greetings with the merry lad, Raven found herself caught curiously between wistful disappointment and panicked relief.

"Raven!" a weight fell around her shoulders and Garfield's boyishly high voice blasted in her ear. "Did you miss me? I know your life must be terribly bleak and dull without my wit and humor to brighten your day."

Raven's emotions settled for mildly annoyed and, without bothering to look at him, she replied coolly, "Remove your arm from my person or I shall remove it from _your_ person."

Laughing nervously—he could never tell just how seriously Raven made these threats—Garfield stepped hastily away from the bookish young woman, folding his arms over his chest and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "So! Let's get shopping, shall we?"

The group of young people meandered past the fountain and took the road to the left for a short ways, turning off at a smaller venue to make a shortcut to the open air market that thrived in the town's trade square.

Raven felt exposed and awkward as they emerged into the lively courtyard. Surrounding them on all sides was the proof of life, the smells of food, perfumes, and humanity all vying for dominance in a way that was positively nauseating until one became acclimated to it. The air was charged with the electricity of movement, the mild spring day warmer here where so many congregated. Criers hawked their wares at booths, stalls, and the patches of ground they had staked out since morning, all of them striving to be heard over the undercurrent murmuring of the crowd.

The sprawling yard was packed with an amalgamation of young and old, male and female, from every walk and station of life. Well-dressed ladies jostled elbows with lowly shopkeepers in the grand avenue. Locals who had never ventured outside the town borders walked alongside travelers from other cities, countries, and even more obscure origins, all of them blissfully ignorant of each other. Here money exchanged hands with little prejudice, the cold currency never minding whether it was pinched between knobby, grimy fingers or slender, manicured nails.

The market was a milieu of bright and clashing colors, sounds and smells, and made a miserable Raven wish for the quiet company of her books, with their comforting musk and familiar covers. She never much liked crowds; she felt terribly out of place in the press of people, vulnerable and naked under the imagined scrutiny of so many eyes and ears.

Kori, Tara and Garfield seemed to thrive in the lively atmosphere, jostling and striding with all the rest at the head of their little group. Rorek strode with envious serenity behind them, as unbothered by the scene as a duck in the rain. Raven, however, trailed miserably at the rear, wishing vainly to purchase her necessities quickly and escape to her sanctuary.

After a few moments, in which her foot had been trod on, her purse fingered and dismissed as too light, and she had been nearly bowled over by an overzealous housewife, Raven seriously considered escaping discreetly down one of the many side alleys available; she would not likely be missed until she had already arrived home.

Grumbling mild oaths _sotto voce_, Raven irritably shoved her hood back to her shoulders, finding the square uncomfortably warm in her thick cloak. Swiping an errant heliotrope lock away from her eyes, she started violently when a hand caught her wrist in a sudden, calloused grip, the large, meaty palm enclosing her slender forearm easily.

Heart pounding in a rush of fear and adrenaline, Raven whirled with wide eyes to stare up at her assailant, a towering man with shoulders almost half as wide as he was high, the tawny, stringy hair that tumbled over them framing small, beady dark eyes that glared down at her brutishly.

"Let go of me!" Raven barked, her voice snappish and gruff with adrenalized bravado. She tugged her arm harshly, wincing at the lack of effect the move had and the tightened grip of the massive individual who stood before her.

The mammoth grinned cruelly down at her, a stupid chuckle rumbling from between his thick lips. "I don' think so, girlie."

Raven scowled, her fear beat down by panic and anger, spurring her usual acid remarks to fly sharply from her lips. "I doubt you think very much at all, but I warn you—"

"—If you do not unhand that young woman, brute, I will not be held responsible for the consequences of my actions." The voice that interrupted Raven was calm and smooth, cold and controlled, and one Raven knew well, but in far kinder tones.

Staring with a mix of relief and disbelief at the form of Rorek, Raven let her empty threats die unvoiced. Rorek's hand rested warningly on the hilt of the sword at his hip, his intentions clear even to the dim ape who still held onto Raven's wrist.

The beast's face screwed up in concentration as he seemed to size up the shorter man. Rorek was certainly smaller and of leaner build, but he also had a sword, and by the way he stood, knew how to use it. The giant was unarmed, but thought he might still be able to take him with sheer size and strength.

"Ho, Rorek, we lost you and—what the devil is going on?" Garfield slipped through the crowd to stand beside Rorek, his eyes darting over the scene quickly as he assessed the situation. While his expression was a bit dubious at the size of the oaf towering over Raven, he didn't hesitate in reaching for his own sword, sliding it marginally from its scabbard as he crouched in preparation for a fight. "I don't know who you are, but I'm pretty certain Rorek and I can take you."

There was beginning to be somewhat of a gathering around them, and the onlookers stood around murmuring to each other, wondering if the predicament would come to blows, and who the shabby looking young woman was that the argument seemed to be about.

Barging her way through the ring of spectators, Tara came to stand resolutely beside Garfield, her chin held high and her bright blue eyes determined. Kori joined her quickly, her face worried, but her bright emerald gaze clear and strong.

"I strongly suggest you let her go right now," intoned Tara to the muscle-bound brute, "and walk away while you still have legs to stand on."

The giant may not have been the brightest wick on the candelabra, but he was not so stupid as to take on a group of unknown assailants, two of which obviously knew their way around a blade, and of whom the other two were feisty looking females. One uppity woman, he could handle. Three was asking for more trouble than the lumbering ox liked to play with.

Growling his frustration at being thwarted, the large man slung Raven at her group of defenders, and she stumbled and would have fallen had not Kori caught her by the shoulders.

"Be seeing you," he threatened cleverly at the violet-haired girl.

Stepping in front of the kneeling Raven, Rorek's sword rang free of its sheath as he raised it defensively towards the huge man. "For your sake, I pray not."

Piggish eyes narrowing on the white-haired warrior, the interloper snorted boorishly and lumbered off into the crowd without a word.

The dispute apparently settled, the crowd of onlookers dispersed with some dissatisfaction. More than a few had been hoping to see a good fight, and maybe a little blood.

"Well, that was kind of anticlimactic," Garfield quipped wryly, straightening from his defensive posture with a relieved laugh.

Rorek returned his blade to its sheath and turned towards Raven, who stood now beside a worried and hovering Kori. The blue cloaked girl appeared a bit shaken, but unharmed. "Raven, are you alright?" She nodded, and even gifted him with a small, reassuring smile. He graciously ignored the way it trembled slightly at the corners. "Good; I am glad."

"Thank you, Rorek. If you hadn't arrived, I'm not quite sure what would have happened." She smiled at him again, smaller this time, but steadier, and somewhat warmer. He returned it more strongly, and she blushed slightly.

"Oh, and what am I? A side of beef?" Garfield, with his ever-impeccable timing, broke in, feigning indignation and smoothing a hand over his tousled sandy hair.

Raven rolled her eyes and thanked him wryly; she did not smile for him. "Thank _all_ of you; now, may we please move on? I still have shopping to do."

The others agreed easily, knowing better than to put Raven under the spotlight of attention and scrutiny; they knew from experience that to crowd her with their concern would only make her retreat into her shell of icy distance.

The group started off again, moving more as a unit now, quietly and deftly maneuvering Raven to their center, with Tara before her, Kori to her left, Garfield at her back and Rorek close at her right.

Raven felt a curious mix of uncomfortable and pleased at the way Rorek walked so closely beside her, his hand drifting unconsciously to his sword hilt every time a man drew too near them for his liking.

After a few moments of walking, Rorek turned to her, his light eyes soft and concerned. "Raven, forgive me if my asking is out of line… but who was that great oaf? And what did he want with you?"

They were pertinent questions, ones she had been resigned to being asked, but she still felt uneasy about answering them. "Truly, Rorek… I really haven't any idea."

After a moment of quiet scrutiny, his lovely grey eyes searching hers for the truth of her answer, he nodded, satisfied that she had not lied to him.

And she had not lied. Not really.

She had no clue who the man was, and she had no true _idea_ of what his intentions had been. But she had her fears and suspicions, and hoped desperately that they were wrong.

"Oh, Raven, look! Perhaps you will find something here?" Kori turned towards her, smiling, gesturing at a covered stall, and the group stopped upon her exclamation.

Raven peered critically at the barrels of cloth and stacks of folded clothing upon low crates beneath the shade of the stall's awning. "Hmm… perhaps I may find something of a reasonable price here." Somewhat pointedly, she moved around Kori and, without pausing for the others to follow, began considering what the cloth merchant had to offer.

Tara and Kori, of course, had no problem joining her beneath the awning to search for themselves, and Garfield pulled a reluctant Rorek away to peruse the weaponry available two stalls farther down.

The clothing was not of the highest quality, and consisted mainly of the bleaker, more somber dyes; this was good, for such things were indicative of lower prices and opportunities for haggling, and because Raven was not suited to the brighter hues of the spectrum.

As she held a plain brown skirt up to the light for closer examination, Tara moved to her side with the pretense of investigating a butter yellow dress displayed on a wobbly wooden mannequin.

"Rorek certainly seemed hesitant to leave your side," she opened lightly, leaning forward to inspect the dress's high neckline.

Raven, who had been expecting this, peered at a loose stitch at the skirt's hem. "He is a chivalrous man, and as such, is disposed to moments of overprotectiveness. It is not an uncommon reaction among males."

"Garfield did not seem overeager to be glued to your side," responded Tara, her nonchalance ruined by the light teasing in her voice.

"Garfield is Garfield," Raven returned easily.

Tara merely shrugged at this rebuttal. "Even so. I had simply thought you might want to take advantage of the situation, so to speak." She clucked deprecatingly over the dress's close-fitting sleeves; it was a very ugly dress.

Raven shot her a dry glance. "I'm afraid 'damsel in distress' is not a role I find particularly appealing."

Tara chuckled. "This is true. You'd probably have tried battling that gigantic cretin with verbal barbs and disapproving glares if we'd left you to yourself." She bit her lower lip, trying to staunch the grin that spread over her face anyways. "Besides, I think poor Rorek might have been somewhat at a loss if he were to have a helpless, meek Raven on his hands."

Raven pressed her lips together and exhaled loudly through her nose. "Rorek does not have me on his hands at all."

Finally, Tara turned to look at her, a grin that was halfway to being a leer on her lips and an incorrigible glint in her eye. "But perhaps he would _like_ to."

Raven's jaw clenched on a hot retort, and she changed the subject brusquely. "That dress, are you considering buying it?"

Tara was undeterred, grinning widely at the flustered Raven. "That monstrosity? Of course not."

"Good, you'd look horrid in it," Raven replied casually. Tara opened her mouth, shut it, and narrowed her bemused gaze on the other girl, not sure whether she'd just been insulted or complimented.

Shrugging, she decided both and dismissed it. "You're not going to buy _that_ skirt are you?"

Frowning at the blonde, Raven folded the brown skirt over her arm. "What if I am?"

Tara sighed. "It's _plain_. It's brown and boring, and you'll never catch Rorek's eye if you always insist on wearing clothes like that. You never buy anything that flatters you or calls the least bit of attention to yourself."

Raven thought about protesting wanting to catch Rorek's eye, caught the knowing, amused look in Tara's glance, and didn't bother. "I don't _like_ calling attention to myself, Tara, and I will not dress myself up simply to snare the focus of some man. Such pandering is ridiculous and pointless, and an utter waste of time I could otherwise spend."

Kori, who had joined them at the start of Raven's rebuttal, shook her head sympathetically and smiled kindly. "Time is never wasted in the pursuit of love, dear friend." She said it with such a knowing, wise air that, for a moment, Tara and Raven were reminded how little they actually knew of their friend.

"Well, if I ever find myself in the unfortunate position of being in love, I shall remember that." Suddenly uncomfortable, Raven turned towards the patient cloth vendor where he stood at the back of the stall. After a few moment's haggling, Raven parted reluctantly with four small copper ingots from her purse, wishing vainly that she had tried harder to argue the man down to three.

The girls rejoined Garfield and Rorek shortly, and retired from the bustling market to a small tavern, where they took one of the few outdoor tables.

The five sat around the table in the afternoon sunlight, conversing cheerfully, and Raven sat with her parcel in her lap, listening and observing each member of the group.

They were certainly an interesting, motley crew, she noted with some amusement.

You might easily mistake Garfield for the youngest of their number, for all his easy manner and bad jokes, but he was only just younger than Raven herself, and a few months older than Tara. He was handsome, in a boyish way, perhaps a bit short, but his sunny grin and bright, laughing hazel eyes were not unappreciated by the town's female population.

He was an easygoing lad with a happy-go-lucky nature, and it was often hard to take him seriously. Over time, however, Raven had learned that his thoughts ran deeper than the surface suggested, and that he was occasionally prone to odd, shrewd insights. And silly though he often behaved, he was not an unintelligent young man, having been well tutored. He was, after all, the child of the wealthy Logan family, and it would not do for their only son and heir to be uneducated.

The Logans were breeders, not only of horses, but hounds, hawks, and a menagerie of other beasts. They were one of the best breeders in all the country of Titana, and as such held a prestigious position in the relatively small town of Hold. It was considered something of a mark of wealth and nobility to obtain a horse, hound, or hawk from the Logan clan, for those procured from the Logans were remarkably well-trained, loyal, and obedient.

Garfield's parents were well respected, though considered to be rather… eccentric. They were not often to be found at their Hold estate, forever abroad in some distant and exotic location, procuring creatures from all reaches to breed back home. No, it was Garfield himself who oversaw the breeding, care and training of the animals at home, though he had no small number of hired help to assist him in the great task.

Tara was one of these. She had simply wandered into Hold one day four years ago, with no place to stay, no family or companions, and nothing but the clothes on her back and the small pack of possessions she carried. She never revealed where she had come from or why she had decided to settle here, only that she had wandered for a long time, and that she desired work and lodging in Hold. When she had proven to possess no small talent in training hounds, Garfield had offered her both. And since then she had called a small cabin on the outskirts of the Logan estate home, though many speculated that she would one day call the manor itself home.

Though the two themselves might be utterly blind to it, there was more than friendship and good humor between Tara and Garfield, and it was painfully obvious to everyone else in town.

In much the same fashion, Kori had appeared in Hold a year and a half after Tara's arrival. She had been similarly vague about her past, shrouding her life before Hold in a veil of mystery that most did not probe, disarmed by Kori's kind smile and warm, friendly enthusiasm. Kori, however, had required no work in Hold, for she had brought with her some small fortune in jewels, which she had sold most of to secure herself a small, charming home at the edge of town, bordering the forest. She had been easily accepted into the population, and had no small list of suitors among the town's young men, though she always very politely turned down their interest.

Raven fancied she had an eye on someone in particular, or that perhaps she pledged her heart to this love she had hinted at earlier.

Raven herself had been a resident of Hold for nearly six years now, and found she could not blame Tara or Kori for choosing not to disclose their pasts. Raven herself liked to forget that the years before she had lived in Hold had ever happened.

And, of course, there was Rorek.

Rorek was the son of one of the most regal and noble families in Hold, and was destined someday to lead his house. He was an intelligent, charming, exceedingly beautiful young man who spoke with grace and eloquence, and was more often than not a kind, calm, thoughtful individual. These qualities made him a popular person, though the greater masses of Hold's young women were more interested in his ethereal beauty. With his engaging grey eyes, enviable long white hair, and lovely, angular features to make a sculptor weep, it was difficult to blame them for flocking about him. It was no little surprise that he managed to keep himself distant, the way they all tittered and batted their eyes at him, all hoping to be the mother of his heirs, legitimate or otherwise.

It was merely one more reason, to Raven, not to act on her silly, fledgling feelings for him. She would be blind and backward not to find him achingly attractive, but it was his intellect and quiet, charming personality that Raven most admired, and she did not want to be mistaken for one of those silly, amorous twits, so did not pursue him. She had resigned herself to the fact that, unless he somehow defied all likelihood and took an interest in the drab town librarian, they would never be more than friends, and she should therefore try her hardest to deny she had feelings for him at all. It was not easy, but she doubted very much that Rorek would ever find reason to take interest in her.

And, sitting between the bright, willowy, gorgeous Kori and the thin, outgoing, lovely Tara, Raven had never felt more plain. She was curved where they were slender, short where they were tall. Her hair was an unusual heliotrope shade, her eyes a dark lapis blue inside an unremarkable oval face. She was sarcastic and cynical, with a short temper and little patience for people, and found it difficult to say kind things, for fear that they would betray weakness. She did not take compliments well, always looking for the insult hidden behind the kind words, the manipulation underlying the flattery.

No, she was much better off not chasing love, or Rorek. She had little hope of catching either, for she had nothing with which to tempt.

"Oh, Raven! Had you heard yet?"

Raven blinked rapidly, coming out of her dismal thoughts to focus on what Garfield had been saying. "I'm sorry… heard about what?"

Garfield laughed, the others sharing amused glances at Raven's drifting attention. "That Richard is back in town. He arrived late last night."

Raven's attention came fully round at this, her eyebrows hiking up briefly before drawing down in confusion over her eyes. "He did?" She wondered why she _hadn't_ known. Normally Richard sent a message round to the library as soon as he hit the town borders, whatever the hour. "Hmm. No, I hadn't known." She frowned, puzzled. "How did you?"

Garfield grinned at her. "He borrowed Nightwing from our stables again, and dropped him off before heading home."

Raven's brows traveled high again. "He _walked_ back to the Manor? Why on earth would he do such a silly thing?"

Garfield shrugged. "You know he never really shares his reasoning freely, Raven. He did seem rather preoccupied, though."

"Hmm," she murmured, gaze turning internal as she puzzled over her friend's strange behavior.

So preoccupied was she that she missed the exchange of glances between Tara, Garfield and Kori, and the inquisitive glance Rorek gave them.

Kori reached across the table to lightly tap the back of Raven's hand, drawing her attention and smiling brightly, trying to dispel the thoughtful haze in the librarian's eyes. "Why do we not go and pay Richard a call, Raven? Certainly he would be glad to see his friends after such an extended absence."

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**AN**: The last of these for tonight, and I hope you enjoyed it. ;) Let me know?


	7. Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. Ambiguous pairings here.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is just plain Drama.

**Author's Note**: This seventh piece is a little odd, an idea birthed in the not-as-wee-as-they-should've-been hours. Please forgive the "wtf" value on those grounds. ;

**Summary**: Slightly AU. The Titans play surprise host to another alternate-dimension dweller--in the form of an older Robin, who now carries the mantle of Nightwing. This extradimensional visitor plays strange dramas and tensions with each Titan, but none more so than Raven, and of course, Robin himself...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!).

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Raven breathed a soft sigh of relief as the roof door closed quietly behind her and the warm night breeze stroked her brow, easing the lines of frustration and puzzlement there.

While things were never normal or calm in Jump City, much less Titan Tower, life had become rather a lot stranger in the past few days in the T shaped building, and the strain was working Raven's last well-conditioned nerve.

Tilting her face into the wind, Raven closed her eyes and let the low heat of the night seep into her, a wistful, sad thing sighing through her as the warmth failed to penetrate to that cold, tight spot in her chest.

She hated arguing with Robin. Not the amiable, almost playful bickering they exchanged sometimes; no, those she could almost admit to enjoying. But it was these terse, quietly angry arguments they had on sparse occasions that she loathed.

Robin knew her better than anyone else, and she knew him better almost than he did himself, sometimes. She disliked being at odds with him, and even less when she couldn't be entirely certain which of them was truly in the right.

Unhooking the broach at the hollow of her throat, Raven removed her heavy cloak as it became stifling in the summer weather and lay it down, folded, beside the door.

When she had straightened again and turned around, she startled back a step, a rushed mantra leaping unbidden from her lips and instinctually raised hands glowing black. And when Nightwing only continued to smirk affably down at her, she lowered her knee-jerk defenses and glowered darkly at Robin's older doppelganger.

Huffing a little, Raven lifted her chin stubbornly and stalked by the disconcertingly familiar figure, grousing as she passed him, "I had thought I was alone."

Nightwing only chuckled and followed her with an easy, silent gait to the roof's edge. "You're only upset because I managed to sneak up on you."

Raven's eyes widened briefly before narrowing in suspicion, and she turned the wary gaze on Nightwing. It rankled enough that he could get so near as he had without her ever even detecting his presence.

"And no, I can't read minds, either." He didn't look at her, but his smile widened, teeth flashing as he gave a short laugh. "I'm just very good at reading you."

"I find you disturbing," Raven deadpanned bluntly. "You're Robin, but you aren't. I can see him in you. Or rather, you in him. But you are not him."

His smile shrank slightly, and he seemed to sigh without altering his even, quiet breathing. "I was, though. And he _will_ be me. Someday. In a way. I'm not sure that he'll turn out exactly as I am, but he'll be Nightwing someday, of that I'm certain. The problem of infinite alternate dimensions is as complex as the time paradox." His brow furrowed a moment, and Raven forgot to keep glaring at him and studied how familiar that thoughtful frown was. "Particularly considering they seem to be tied up in one another, yet somehow separate as well. As I said, very confusing."

Raven exhaled through her nose and forced herself to turn away from that achingly handsome, weirdly alien profile. "Obviously, considering that you're from some neighboring dimension, yet are obviously older than our Robin. It's very strange… but I suppose, if one considers Larry, it makes a sort of sense."

Nightwing turned to her, a line drawn over the bridge of his nose and one brow arching over his mask. "Larry?"

Raven glanced at him, almost smiling, then snorted. "I guess that's one thing you and our Robin don't have in common. Larry was our first alternate dimension visitor. Actually, he was also an alternate Robin, strangely enough. Odd, now that I think of it, that we've only been visited by alternate Robins."

"Yes… odd," Nightwing replied, but distantly, as if he were no longer really paying attention to the conversation.

Raven turned to look at him again, her expression quizzical, and flushed when she found him staring at her intensely, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. She knew that look, as if he were contemplating some deep and complicated puzzle. She never liked that look, because when Robin wore it, it meant the team would be losing him to another obsession until the mystery of the week had been solved. It was unnerving to be the subject of that gaze, particularly when it was and was not Robin subjecting her to it.

"…Why are you looking at me that way?" She turned her body towards him, feet spread shoulder width apart, ready for something, though she knew not what, and could never anticipate what was to happen.

"Because I never thought I would get the chance to again." His voice, deeper than Robin's but with those same rich tones, was hushed and low, as if he thought speaking too loudly would break some spell falling over them.

He took a step nearer, and Raven found herself tilting her head back to keep eye contact, something she had never had to do with Robin, who had only recently grown more than an inch taller than her.

"You know, we were Titans where I came from, too. We were… once. You and me, and Kori and Vic and Garfield…" He wet his lips and tilted his head on one side, something in his face growing sad as he gazed at her. "But a lot of things happened, and I haven't stood with you on the roof of a T shaped tower in a long time…"

"You… you've never stood with _me_ on this roof before, Nightwing." Raven was a little surprised and slightly intrigued to discover that there was an alternate Raven somewhere as well, but it seemed distant, unimportant as Nightwing took a step closer.

His presence, which she had been irritatingly unaware of before, enveloped her now like a warm, familiar blanket, hazing her perceptions. It seemed very difficult to think beyond his face, his hand reaching towards her, those long fingertips brushing down her ribcage and trailing over the curve of her waist.

He hooked his fingers in her belt, and she snapped out of the strange lull a little when he tugged her sharply towards him and she stumbled into his space. She tilted her head back to look up at him, her mouth opening to voice a question her thoughts hadn't yet formed, but she stopped, frozen, when his lips pressed, soft but firm, over the focus stone on her forehead.

"Ro—Nightwing, what…!"

His hands, large and unfamiliar, circled her waist and his breath ghosted over her ear as he rested his cheek against her temple. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that."

Raven's face flushed hot and her brow knit in confusion, her hands coming up to rest against the blue insignia over Nightwing's compact chest, though whether she meant to push him away or press closer she did not know, and that uncertainty only confused her further. "I…I don't understand."

He pulled back a little and looked down into her face, that frown returning, troubled lines creasing between his brows. "Raven…"

There was a loud creaking and scraping, and Nightwing and Raven turned towards the sound immediately.

Robin stood framed in the light spilling from the open doorway, his expression lost in shadow. "Raven—Oh…"

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**AN**: Kinda weird, huh? Hope you liked anyways. :) Maybe this time I'll actually hear from some of you silent readers out there? ;p


	8. Fruitcake

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. Robin/Raven

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is Humor/Romance

**Author's Note**: Aaaand the eighth item on the menu. ;) This one was fun and silly and would've been funner and sillier if it'd been finished. I've tried to finish it in time for Christmas for the last three years running. No dice. Just too busy a time of year.

**Summary**: A wacky Christmas romance all begun by the simple exchanging of gifts... this Christmas, all the Titans gifts are thoughtful and carefully selected... so why did Robin give Raven a _fruitcake_? And what on _earth_ is she supposed to do with it?

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!).

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"Merry Christmas, friends!" Starfire pirouetted midair, arms flung wide to display her Yuletide Mistress Claus ensemble, Raven's gift to her. It really wasn't any different than her normal uniform, just monochromatically red with fluffy white fringe. Oh, and the hat. Star was just in love with the hat.

Raven smirked at the deliriously happy expression on her friend's face, pleased her present had been well received. It had been half gag gift, half real gift. She'd seen it hanging in the seasonal display at Hot Topic and couldn't resist. It just screamed Starfire.

Robin and Beastboy were staring at the alien princess as if she were strutting around in lingerie, mouths gaping and mental processes utterly incapacitated. Cyborg was shaking his head at Raven, a curious mix of awe, humor and reproach in his expression.

"Oh, thank you, friend Raven! It is most glorious!" Star did a grounded twirl, giggling and giddy, her face beaming with delight.

"I'm glad you like it, Star." Raven smiled and shook her head again, watching the scene with warm amusement over the rim of her cup of morning tea. Peppermint, in the spirit of Christmas.

"Wow, Rae… not a gift I'd have ever expected you to give anyone." Cyborg's tone was wry and teasing. Raven just shrugged it off nonchalantly.

"Oh… Raven!" Beastboy snapped quickly out of his stupor—which really wasn't all that surprising, given the length of the boy's attention span—and whirled around to face the dark Titan, grinning and waggling his eyebrows mischievously.

Raven's eyes narrowed on him suspiciously, her glance directing pointedly to the hands hidden behind his back. Snapping his arms around with a speed to rival the Flash, he presented her with a rectangular box wrapped garishly in neon green paper patterned in Christmas kittens and topped off with a faded red plastic ribbon—the kind with the adhesive patch stapled to the bottom. Judging by the sloppy corners and the horrendous overuse of Scotch tape, it was a personal wrap job.

"Ta da! Open mine first, Rae!"

Raven cautiously took the parcel from his outstretched hands, giving him the mock-evil eye as she set it in her lap. "I swear to you, Beastboy, if this one jumps out at me, smells in any way, or oozes, even a little bit, I will skin you alive and make you into a pair of green leather gloves."

The young changeling blanched, expression a little chagrined, and laughed uneasily. "C'mon, Rae! Would I do that to you? …Again?"

"You better hope not," she murmured as she turned the box over and over in her hands, searching for a place to begin opening without the undignified ripping and tearing.

"Here ya go, Raven."

The sorceress looked up as Robin casually tossed her a birdarang, which she caught between fore and middle fingers. They quirked brows at each other and shared a smirk. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Raven inserted the sharp edge of the projectile into a tiny fold in the gaudy wrapping and slit it open with ease, setting the makeshift letter opener on the couch beside her as she extracted a plain white box about the length of her forearm.

Poised with her fingertips on the lid, Raven waggled her brows at the anticipatory Beastboy, who made a frustrated noise caught between a growl and a whine. "Just open it! I promise it doesn't bite!"

"I'm holding you to that."

Smiling a little, she slit the tape securing the lid with her fingernail and pried it up. Folded neatly inside amongst a nest of thin hunter green tissue paper—which clashed terribly with the wrapping paper, but was really quite nice by itself—was a black fleece scarf patterned in navy snowflakes.

Raven held the length of it up in her hands, impressed. While Beastboy couldn't be credited with an ounce of skill in color scheming—of course, look at his costume; while slightly better than Robin's, green and magenta were not generally complementary—she had to admit he had good taste in scarves.

Rubbing the soft, thick material between her fingers, the dark girl offered the youngest Titan a sincere smile. "Very nice. Thank you, Beastboy."

He grinned, quite proud of himself. "I knew you'd like it! An' it matches your cloak, too!"

She chuckled, amazed at what amounted to quite an accomplishment for the style-challenged shifter.

"Awright! Very nice," Cyborg exclaimed happily, holding aloft a scale model T-Car. "Thanks, Rob!"

Robin grinned, pleased with himself and his gift. "Glad ya like it; had to 'borrow' your blueprint for it, though. Custom job."

Cyborg blinked at him, and Raven knew he was deciding whether he should be miffed Robin had lifted the T-Car's plan without the metal man's express permission, or whether he should merely be grateful his leader had paid such attention to detail. After a brief hesitation, he just grinned and began inspecting the tiny vehicle more closely.

Raven shook her head, amused. Robin couldn't help competing in everything he did, even if it was Christmas shopping; he had money and resources out the proverbial wazoo at his disposal, so it was no surprise his gifts were so… thoughtful.

Wondering vaguely what she would receive from the Boy Wonder, Raven tossed Beastboy his present, smirking when he dove for it and still nearly missed. He was ecstatic with the Vegetarian Cookbook, and began arguing with Cyborg immediately for dinner-making privileges.

Raven had figured that since she couldn't keep Beastboy out of the kitchen, she might as well broaden his menu. And besides, it was the only book she could think to get him it seemed he might actually read.

"Raven! I joyfully present you with this gift in honor of the spirits of the day of Christ-mas!" Starfire plopped her present in the dark girl's lap with great ceremony.

Though she had been well informed—several times—of the various meanings and myths of Christmas and alternative holidays, the alien princess had most of them hopelessly muddled, and her curious mixing of customs and traditions was always amusing to see. She had lit a menorah in the kitchen and decorated the doors with holly wreaths and sprigs of mistletoe, and the TV was currently the happy, if somewhat precarious resting-place of a miniature manger scene.

Their tree was amazingly tacky and overdecorated, dressed in a milieu of clashing themes; it fit right in, in Titan Tower.

The only thing she had seemed to grasp so far in its entirety was the practice of gift giving, though her wrapping was always… interesting.

The present sitting in Raven's lap was a vague and lumpy shape, swaddled in a collage of three assorted papers. It made the dark heroine smile, and almost reluctant to undo the obviously heartfelt work. However, hands clasped at her red-clothed chest and tittering with excitement, Starfire awaited her dear friend's reaction to her carefully and thoughtfully selected gift.

Sighing not unhappily, Raven picked up the borrowed birdarang once more and slit the unique wrapping open from one side to the other, and it fell away to reveal a small, royal purple velveteen teddy bear, a shiny porcelain candy cane sewn between its paws. The glassy black eyes stared up at Raven adoringly, and she couldn't suppress the twitch of her lips; she'd never admit it at any other time of the year, but she liked it.

Star, accustomed by now to her friend's minimal displays of emotion, caught this small, telling reaction of pleasure and bounced up and down in her red boots, shrieking with joyful laughter. "I am so pleased you are pleased!"

Raven allowed her friend a brief grin. "Thank you very much, Starfire. Maybe I'll keep him with me when I read."

"Him?" Robin quirked a brow at the sorceress, teasing her affectionately over her little slip; it was nice to see her crawl out of her self-imposed shell once in a while. "You've decided it's a he?"

Raven colored a little, tucking the stuffed animal between her arm and stomach and staring cooly at her leader, her voice deadpan as she replied with utmost seriousness, "Of course he's a he. And his name is Adam, and he has a boyfriend named Steve."

Beastboy lowered his cookbook to his lap to blink in perturbation at Raven. "Dude… your _stuffed bear_ is gay?"

Robin laughed and shook his head.

Raven shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not?"

Cyborg stopped poking at the gelatinous blob he'd received from the alien princess to look oddly at them. He shrugged after a moment, said, "Well, he is purple," and resumed his investigation of the mysterious gift.

"I do not understand…" Starfire looked at them with a confused smile. "Should not cotton-filled bears be happy?" She looked to Robin.

"Uh…" Robin's mouth worked like a dying fish's, and Raven snickered at his discomfort.

Raven fielded the awkward question with grace. "In current use, Starfire, 'gay' less often means 'happy', but implies that an individual is romantically inclined towards members of their same sex."

"Oh." Starfire's brow furrowed as she digested this factoid. After a moment, she looked between Robin and Raven, blinking rapidly. "This is… unusual here?" The idea seemed perplexing and somewhat silly to the princess, and it was Raven's turn to grasp awkwardly for a response.

"Uh…"

"So! Starfire! Why don't you open my gift?" Robin intervened with a smooth distraction, effectively saving Raven's bacon. He grinned wider when she shot him a grateful look.

Starfire was unutterably pleased with the month-long tour pass for the local mustard factory Robin gave her, but her bone-crushing hug communicated her glee effectively enough.

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**AN:** :D Heehee. I always feel silly every time I reread this. Whaddaya say, lovies?


	9. Sand in My Shoes

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. RedX/Raven

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is Drama/Romance

**Author's Note**: This is not exactly Love Potion Number Nine. -shrug- it never really got off the ground. One of my rare attempts at first-person fanfiction. Probably why this stalled out in first gear...

**Summary**: Raven decides to get away for a few days and leave the heroing life behind, and just _be _and _do_ for once. This vacation to normal takes an unexpected turn when "Rachael" meets an intriguing man and has her first fling. But when the beach is behind her and her few-night-stand _supposed_ to be forgotten, Raven finds herself missing what "Rachael" had... and discovers it might not be as behind or distant from her as she thought.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!). Also, idea inspired by the song after which this is named, "Sand in My Shoes" by Dido.

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"You're what?"

"I'm taking a vacation, Robin. Just a week. Maybe two."

He stared at me as if I was fluently speaking a language he had only passing acquaintance with, that mix of confusion, frustration, and determination to understand that I normally found endearing now making my heart squeeze like a fist. "You've never taken a vacation before. Is there some occasion I wasn't aware of?"

I watched his face pinch a bit as he mentally ran over his list of Important Dates, knowing he ruled out all anniversaries and my birthday, and watching him come up blank as the down-turned corners of his mouth tightened. He never liked not knowing what was going on. Robin might be an extreme risk taker, but he hated surprises. That reckless, adventurous spirit and obsessive-compulsive need for control made for a complex, contradictive character. This was part of the problem.

"No, Robin, nothing like that." He stared at me, and I exhaled, not exactly sighing. "I promise you the world is not ending." My personal world didn't count.

He still peered at me strangely, so I was forced to elaborate; I knew well the Boy Wonder, and if I left without explaining myself to his satisfaction, there was a high risk of him following me. That would be… bad. "As you said, I've never taken a vacation before. It's been five, six years, Robin?"

"Six and three months."

I ignored his interruption. "I think it's high time I took a break. It's been quiet the last few months, and I thought it would be… nice, to take a little time just for myself. You have an alternate life, Robin. You get to take the mask off and be Richard Grayson. I would like to take off the cape, put Raven in the closet for a few days, and get to know Rachel." His face had gone blank during my short speech, the mask behind the mask telling me nothing. "Does that satisfy?"

Robin shrugged as if he hadn't just interrogated me. "I don't see why you can't take some time to yourself. It's about time, really."

I hoped fervently that neither the sweeping tiredness nor the rush of relief showed on my face as I nodded. "Thank you. And of course, I understand I'll be on call, should anything difficult arise."

"Of course."

"Then I'll see you in a week. Tell the others goodbye for me."

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The hotel room was a blandly packaged cube, dressed in inoffensive pastel blues and a wealth of beige carpeting. The mattress, however, had no apparent lumps, and the window afforded a gorgeous view of the beach sloping down and away from the hotel.

I stood for a moment, just watching the small waves break on the sand, imagining I could hear the distant surf crashing on the shore. Maybe I really could relax here. Forget my life for a while. It would be easy, because nobody expected Raven to be here, and even if they looked for her, they would never suspect bookish, brunette Rachel. And to think, all it took was a bottle of supermarket brand hair dye and a pair of low-rise jeans to become no one.

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**AN:** Thoughts? Anyone?


	10. Under the Skin Chapter 1

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. This one _really_ earns the M rating, for strong language, violence, sexual content and sensitive material.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. This one is not about pairings.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. Tragedy/Drama

**Author's Note**: This tenth one is a two-parter, and a punch in the gut, be warned. In fact, I'll just add the warning I originally planned to tack on to this. "YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY WARNED. DO NOT, and I repeat, DO NOT read beyond this point if you are of a weak constitution or can't handle reading about any of those subjects listed under the rating. "

**Summary**: Something horrible befalls one of the Titans, but the matter is out of their jurisdiction. Can the Titans hand this one over to the JCPD, or will the call for vengeance cry too loud? Certain Titans may not be able to trust justice to the law, and there's no telling just how deep this rabbit hole goes.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!). They'd never let me own the Titans, because I keep doing awful things to them.

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**0****1: ****v****I****oL****aT****eD**

Marianne Webster sat at the reception desk of Jump City PD headquarters, nursing a hot cup of black coffee, fresh from the morning pot. Sighing over the aromatic steam, Marianne stared blankly out the window at the pinkening horizon, waiting for the caffeine to hit her brain and jumpstart her mental processes. She was always useless for the first fifteen minutes of the early shift. Coffee was an essential when one had to go to work at the ass-crack of dawn.

Saturday mornings like these were typically quiet. Business, as it were, usually started picking up as noon drew near, normally nothing more than such trivial matters as community service reports and ticket payments. It was a nice blessing, working at the PD and being able to count on most weekend mornings being fairly simple. It was like a small town PD at such times, with few worries.

Though, Marianne had to admit, that was mostly thanks to the unusual circumstances in Jump. She couldn't really think of anywhere else where vigilantes and local government and law enforcement got along so well. The city's heroes could usually be counted on to deal with the big, weird cases and often undercut a lot of the petty crimes that went with any urban area.

Of course, the JCPD still had their share of crime to deal with, but the margin was much narrower. JCPD dealt with minor felonies on a more regular basis, and, of course, the serious, ugly crimes that required special units and teams, the kind not suited for teenage do-gooders. Marianne never had to deal with any of the latter, thankfully, seeing as how she handled mostly paperwork and filing.

Just as Marianne drained the dregs of her mug, the front doors swung open on well-oiled hinges, admitting a disconcertingly familiar figure.

It was a Titan, one of the teen heroes who made Marianne's job so much easier. They were starting to get a bit old for the "teen" part of their name, and in a year or two, they'd be completely transitioned into the label "Team Titans".

Marianne frowned as the crusader seemed to waver under the garish halogen light, then stepped forward. This Titan was the dark sorceress, Raven, and something seemed odd, wrong somehow. As the mysterious young woman slipped back her cowl with a pale hand that seemed to tremble just so, Marianne gasped, half-rising from her chair thoughtlessly.

Raven's face was haggard, her short plum locks in snarls and matted in places, dark with some unidentifiable substance or another. Ghastly purple and yellow bruises decorated the scape of her left cheekbone, her lower lip swollen and split open, dried blood smeared down her chin. A cut over her right eye looked like it might require stitches.

Marianne couldn't see any more of the girl than that, other than a hand that clenched her cloak closed at the throat, her clutching fingers with bloodied knuckles all that held the heavy fabric around her, but Raven walked towards Marianne's desk with a pronounced limp.

"My Lord… child, are you alright? Can I get you a drink, or a chair?" Marianne had four children, three of them daughters and one of them graduating high school next year; she was a mother first, and the bedraggled sight of this young woman hardly older than her Emily sent alarms shrilling loud in her head.

Raven licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a thick croak. Wincing, she cleared her throat and tried again, managing in a raw, raspy voice that quavered and quaked, "I'd like to report a crime."

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Robin less leaned against the wall as slumped against it, and it seemed the only thing between him and a painful crash to the floor. His legs felt like jelly, like they wouldn't support his weight, as if his knees would buckle if he tried to stand on his own. In a detached way, he realized he was going into a sort of shock, and his sensibilities were telling him he needed to pull himself together if he was going to function properly as leader of the Titans and take control of the situation. All the rest of him wasn't listening.

"I can't believe this…"

The plainclothes leaning—actually leaning—against the wall across from him folded his arms across his broad chest and remarked, "Your friend was pretty lucky, actually."

"Lucky? What the hell is lucky about this?" Robin was still too stunned to emote the anger and indignation the detective's comment had incited, but the older man got the idea.

"Listen, kid, that's not what I meant. She's lucky she didn't die of the injuries she sustained. She seems to have healed herself a good bit, and she's in no great shape even now. What she's gone through is no small deal, and we _will_ catch the fucker who did it."

He just couldn't believe it. How could this have happened? How could he have allowed it to happen?

They hadn't explained why someone needed to come down to the station when the JCPD had contacted Titan Tower, only informed them vaguely that there had been an incident involving Raven.

Robin had gone, because he knew police procedure, had dealt with such things before in Gotham. He had experience. Only one person needed to go, and Robin would wire back to the Tower whatever news he got as soon as he got it.

True to his word, Robin had delivered the information as soon as he was enlightened, breaking the news to Cyborg almost mechanically. Robin was somewhat relieved that he'd come alone, now that he knew. Beastboy would have reacted very badly, wouldn't have been any help in the situation, and while Cyborg would have been able to deal, at the Tower he could… explain what had happened. Help them understand.

Now he was reeling from the shock, trying to wrap his head around the situation. In Gotham, things like this happened all the time, were pretty much commonplace. It was horrible and ugly, but there was nothing that could be done about it that wasn't already in effect. Here, in the sleepy, sunny California coastal city of Jump, it hadn't really been an issue, and Robin hadn't had to so much as worry about it. That was one of the things he loved so much about Jump. It was so much softer than gritty, rough Gotham. He had unpleasant dreams of nights on Gotham streets.

It was like part of the nightmare had followed him home.

Detective Freeman, the plainclothes, handed him a cup of coffee. Robin took it and stared at it as if he didn't recognize it or know what to do with it. He realized his hands were trembling when a drop of hot liquid spilled onto and over the green of his gloves. The moment he realized it, they stopped.

Robin looked up at the large window beside Freeman, set the coffee on a nearby hallstand and moved to stand in front of the glass.

She looked so small and helpless in there, so tiny and fragile and lost, the bruises on her face and blood on her mouth ugly and heartwrenching. She huddled under a pale blue EMP-issue blanket as Freeman's female partner gently but firmly questioned her. Raven was so strong, answering with little hesitation and as fully as she could.

Robin couldn't hear what she was saying. The interrogation room was soundproof.

Raven couldn't see him. The window was a two-way mirror.

Robin put his hand against the glass, the longing to reach out and hold that fragile, broken girl achingly strong. His fingers curled into a tight fist. "Do I need to take her to the hospital when your partner is through? Or can I take her home?"

"She's free to go as soon as Detective Yu has everything she needs. Miss Roth cooperated with evidence and forensics as much as was necessary, but she wouldn't let any doctors patch her up. Flat refused. I think she really just wants to go home and finish what she started."

"Okay. Thanks, Detective Freeman." Something distracted Robin's attention and he directed an inquisitive glance towards the officer. "Miss Roth, you said?"

"Her last name. We needed it for the report."

"Huh." Robin's focus was already back to Raven. Her head was bent and her spine was very straight, her shoulders very still. Detective Yu handed her a tissue.

Robin backed up to the opposite wall, watching the interrogation room door anxiously as the two women behind the glass rose. Detective Yu held the door open for Raven to precede her, and Robin was there waiting for her.

Catching sight of him, Raven stopped in the doorway, clutching the blanket tight around her shoulders as if she was cold. She was barely holding together, her calm, disaffected mask cracked and splintering, her swollen eyes bloodshot and shining with tears and pain. Robin took a step forward, hand raised. Freeman stood up straight and took two steps away from the wall.

Raven tensed, hunched inwards, her expression flinching for a moment before she asserted the mask again. Everyone in the quiet hallway stood still and silent, waiting. After a moment, she stood straighter, raised her gaze to Robin's. She held it, rallying her strength as she tried to stand indifferent and unaffected before him.

"Oh, Raven…"

The soft murmur tore through her defenses like tissue paper and she wavered, her lips starting to tremble as tears welled on her lashes. With a choked sob, she stumbled into his open arms, burying her face in his chest as he wrapped strong, protective arms around her shaking shoulders.

Resting his cheek atop her hair, Robin closed his eyes against his own urge to break down and cry with her, murmuring against her skin as he kissed her temple, "Sshh… You're safe now, Raven. I'll take care of you. You're going to be okay, I'm here now. I'm here."

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**AN**: This is only chapter one. Chapter two is up next, and I strongly reccommend reading it if you got through this one. Please tell me your thoughts.


	11. Under the Skin Chapter 2

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. This one _really_ earns the M rating, for strong language, violence, sexual content and sensitive material.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. This one is not about pairings.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. Tragedy/Drama

**Author's Note**: The second chapter of the Under the Skin. Hang onto your hearts, folks. They're liable to be broken. "YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY WARNED. DO NOT, and I repeat, DO NOT read beyond this point if you are of a weak constitution or can't handle reading about any of those subjects listed under the rating."

**Summary**: Something horrible befalls one of the Titans, but the matter is out of their jurisdiction. Can the Titans hand this one over to the JCPD, or will the call for vengeance cry too loud? Certain Titans may not be able to trust justice to the law, and there's no telling just how deep this rabbit hole goes.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!). They'd never let me own the Titans, because I keep doing awful things to them.

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**0****2: ****vUlNeRaBlE**

Raven's bedroom door slid shut on a whisper as Cyborg exited into the hall, grim and sober.

"I got her in bed, but I don't think she'll be sleeping any time soon unless she takes that sedative. She looks… haunted."

Starfire looked up at him with a muddled expression of pain and grim sorrow. Her arms were wrapped around her slim waist, as if to protect herself from the horror. "Would you not also be 'haunted'? On Tamaran, such violation is of highest taboo. It was—it _is_ not done."

Beastboy said nothing, just slouched against the wall in stricken silence.

"C'mon y'all, let's… let's just go."

Beastboy led the way down the corridor, Starfire close at his heels. Cyborg took two steps in their direction, stopped, and looked back at Robin, who stood staring at Raven's door as if waiting for it to yield the universe's secrets to him. "You comin'?"

"Huh?" Robin came to himself with a jerk and turned to look at Cyborg, who pinned him with a pitying stare. "Uh…" Robin ran a hand over his face and slumped back against the wall. "No. I'm going to stay just here for a little while. If she needs anything."

A reproof hesitated on the former athlete's tongue and he swallowed it, exhaling on a sigh. "Just don't let me find you sleeping out here."

There was no reply. Not that he'd expected one. He'd come back round midnight with a pillow and blanket, of course.

Cyborg hovered before the entrance to the common room and changed his mind, turning from his shaken companions and heading down the offbranching passage towards his own room.

Entering the seemingly cold and impersonal chamber, Cyborg bypassed his slab of a bed, the bank of highly sophisticated and delicate computers, overlooked the stacks and piles of raw wires, half-programmed chips and superfluous experiments and equipment, to a dark and dusty closet obscured behind the rack of prototype and in-progress projects.

The door opened on squeaky hinges, admitting him into the little-used space. Groping in the darkness, the metal man hooked his fingers on the edge of a cardboard box and dragged it into the light. He rifled through sports medals and framed diplomas and awards, various memorabilia and mementos from the life of a forgotten young man.

Cyborg smiled fondly down on the happier memories of Victor Stone, fingering a faded blue ribbon and caressing a game-winning football. Down to the bottom of the box of keepsakes and tokens, until his fingers probed something that a little under his touch, something he knew from memory to be soft and a little ragged.

Ah. So there it was.

Victor… no, Cyborg pulled the well-used hand-me-down teddy bear from the box, cradling the fuzzy stuffed animal in hands that could no longer feel those familiar worn spots or the soft fur. It seemed something so small and fragile now. As a child, it had meant safety and security to him, a refuge in a crazy world. Mr. Bear had been his stolid friend and faithful companion, survived all his lonesome backyard romps and learning to ride a tricycle. In memory, it embodied all the contentedness and warm, happy days of his early youth, when things were… were okay.

All those memories faded to gray, yielded to a reality of pain and paranoia, of cybernetic hands that touched and couldn't feel, a world that was ugly and lonely and where the danger was never greater than in the minds of the people around you. The safety of childhood was stripped away and it was so easy for all that evil to touch and taint you. Mr. Bear was just a silly cradle toy, something to toss in a box and hide in the dark, seal away like all your hopes and dreams and illusions of optimism, because bad things happened to good people and you couldn't do a damn thing, and Mr. Bear wasn't helping anyone.

Victor cradled Mr. Bear to his chest and closed his eyes, trying very hard not to cry, and wished away all the bad things in the world, and tried very hard to believe, if only for a moment or two, that that was all it took.

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Starfire sat on the couch with Beastboy, who held a GameStation controller in his hands, his thumbs lightly brushing over the buttons and nudging the toggle stick, despite the black and silent TV screen.

The quiet surrounding the two was thick and pulsing, yet alarmingly fragile, as if it might rip to shreds with screaming and howling at the drop of a pin.

Star shifted her weight on the cushions, fidgeting uncomfortably, and a spring beneath her squeaked from the small movement. Freezing every muscle, she felt her breath suck in between her dry lips, rattling down her throat into her lungs, abruptly stoppered by tongue and a wet swallowing, the click of her teeth as her jaw clicked shut—as if she could take it back.

For a short forever it was so quiet that the only sound was the distant ticking of the kitchen clock, counting time, the sound like a rhythmic fist beating in the chest.

Beastboy rose from the couch as if it had expelled him, the game controller clattering from his hands to the floor as he stepped over the cord, his hands running back and forth over his hair.

Starfire's eyes tracked him as he began to pace parallel to the coffee table, watched his knuckles find their way between his teeth, his lips lift in a brief snarl before he flung his hand down by his side.

"This happened, Star," his voice was a rough murmur, as if Starfire were more a figment of his imagination than a girl who huddled into her center on the couch. "This _really_ happened."

He looked at her then, and Starfire nodded, even though his eyes weren't seeing her.

"Raven was _raped_."

They both flinched, like the word spoken aloud was a gun fired by mistake at a friend.

Beastboy's feet stilled and his head drooped on his neck like a dying flower, his features twisted by too many uncomfortable things to properly express.

Starfire's arms clamped tighter around herself, her fingers clutching at her elbows, trying to contain an explosion that would devastate her world. Her chin trembled, bottom lip caught hard between small white teeth. Air rushed in and out of her nostrils, too fast, too loud.

Then, like a monster clawing it's way from buried nightmares, a single word erupted from her throat.

"_Yes_."

Beastboy lifted his head and looked at her, startled to see how wide Star's green eyes were, how a blanch had paled her warm orange skin to sickly yellow. She met his gaze as if she were ashamed of something, and when he opened his mouth to speak, her expression changed to panic.

Leaping from her seat, she darted from the room as quickly as her feet could carry her.

Left alone now in a room even more horribly silent than before, Beastboy lingered over the thought of pursuing his friend but, his head too wildly spinning, dropped back onto the couch instead.

Spine bowed, elbows on knees, he laced his fingers in front of his mouth to hide the tremble there, and whispered into his palms, "This sucks."

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**AN:** I am seriously considering continuing this story. I'm just not sure there's an audience out there for it. What say you? Is this something you'd be willing to see more of? It's not for the weak-stomached, but if you have a stout heart and a desire to find out what happened, and how it will be made right, well... let me know.


	12. Telling Lies

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. This one's pracitcally G rated. (especially compared to the last two)

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. Vague Raven/Robin, Nightwing/Batgirl

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. Drama/General

**Author's Note**: Did you think I'd already finished airing my dirty laundry? Ah, but we have hardly scratched the surface. X3 Hehehehehe... This clip's small and not very action-y, and was considered as sort of a Prologue for my oneshot story Let Go. May continue it as something entirely ese, though. ;) Give me your opinion.

**Summary**: Friends grow up and adults grow apart, as Robin becomes Nightwing and defends a city of his own, and Raven tries to set the past and pain aside for a brighter, more mainstream future. The two friends become distant, but can't forget each other, so "stay in touch" is only a verbal agreement. But when Raven's demons won't stay shut in the closet, a choice to close the gap brings to light old secrets, new fears, and a future for which these heroes couldn't prepare.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!).

--

He hadn't seen Raven in almost two years.

Not to say they had become estranged. Quite the contrary, Dick and Raven conversed frequently and long on their old retired Titan communicators, ignoring the time and distance between them and speaking as old, dear friends.

She would ask him of his life, always; his burgeoning new career as the dark and formidable Nightwing, and his long romance with Barbara Gordon. She worried over him as Nightwing, telling him in no uncertain terms that she feared he would lose himself to bitterness and anger underneath that dark mask; he always promised easily that she had nothing to fear. Concerning Barbara, her questions were polite and interested, and she always told him she just hoped he was happy.

He, in turn, asked her about her new life, hiding from her past as a Titan, making a new existence as young Rachel Roth, unassuming college student. She was always evasive, when he allowed her to be, and when he did not, tried to make her life sound simple, boring, and uneventful. He always suspected she was hiding behind a vast smokescreen on that one, but he could never quite manage to catch her in a lie.

That was, however, until the night he called her late after returning from a gala dinner with Barbara in Gotham. They had fought, and he wanted to see Raven's friendly, if perhaps unsmiling face to comfort him.

Thunder boomed outside the windows of his hotel room, lightning cracking through the pouring rain as he waited for her to answer. After only a moment's delay, her face appeared on the small screen. He had thought he must have caught her sleeping, but when he saw the distracted frown and bright agitation in her eyes, he knew she had been far from sleep.

"Raven, is everything all right?" He asked, leaning back against the bed's headboard and peeling off his dress socks with his unoccupied hand.

"…Yes, fine," she answered slowly, obviously preoccupied. Her eyes were focused on something off to the side, but after a moment, she brought them to attention on his face, wiping her own face clean of expression at the same time. "What about you? You don't normally call so late."

He shrugged, but watched her intently; something was up. "I just got back from dinner with Babs. We had kind of a disagreement."

"Oh?" She asked, eyes at last gaining a hint of interest. "Did you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now, really. I just wanted a little friendly banter, honestly." As he was speaking, Raven's attention flickered again to something beyond the communicator, and he knew for certain that something important was going on. "Raven, what is it? And don't tell me nothing; you look worried about something."

She looked at him again, scowling in that old, friendly way. "I do not 'look' worried. I never look worried."

"To someone who knows you as well as I do, you do. Now stop trying to distract me, because you know it won't work. What's going on?" He lifted his brows, giving her that laser stare she knew meant he would question her unrelentingly until she either hung up on him or gave in.

To his surprise, instead of doing the former or hedging around, she merely sighed and answered directly, "Someone's found me, and I don't know who."

Richard leaned forward, instantaneously alert. "What do you mean, someone's found you? Is this bad?"

She frowned, glancing off again. "I'm not sure. If they've managed to locate me in the way I think they have, judging by just which ward they set off, then they were definitely searching for Raven, the half-demon, rather than Rachel Roth. Which means it probably isn't good."

Richard frowned, concern tickling the back of his brain. "Do you have any idea why they're looking for you?"

Raven exhaled heavily through her nose, irritated, though not with him. "I'm not sure… but I think they're searching for something. Of mine."

"Hazard any guesses as to _what_?"

She looked at him dryly. "Gee, sure, it's terribly easy to decipher exactly what out of my vast stockpile of rare, valuable, dangerous items they might be after. In fact, I already have it narrowed down to a measly four hundred-twenty possibles."

Dick snorted and ran a hand through his hair, smiling wryly at her. "I see your point. So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing, right now. Whoever they are, they're well-shielded, and if I don't know who they are, where they are, or whether or not they mean me harm, there isn't really anything I _can_ do."

"I see…" He didn't like it. "Do you need me to do anything?"

She smiled at him, small and reassuring. "Right now, no. But if I can think of anything, I'll let you know."

"Good. Promise to keep me updated." He leveled a stern expression at her he hadn't often used since his days as the Titans' leader. It had been a long time since he'd issued any orders, but he hoped she'd still be willing to follow them.

"Of course," she responded. "Now. Tell me about this fight you had with Barbara."

--

**AN**: Thanks, everyone for all your reviews and nice words. :) If I haven't responded, it's not because I didn't greatly appreciate you clicking that button, just that life is an insane margarita mix of chaos and ridiculousness. I ESPECIALLY appreciate the response to Under the Skin. :D I'm strongly thinking on continuing it; just waiting on EmaniaHilel to get back to me with a bit of advice.

Oh! On another note, are you guys interested in being Teased? Tell me yes or no, because I've a couple of tasty morsels to toss you in the next installments... if you're interested... ;p


	13. Bang

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. Mature for this round, for implications.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. Sort of Speedy/Raven

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. Drama/Angst

**Author's Note**: This is _kind of_ one of those tasers I mentioned last time. Maybe. Sorta-kinda. Basically, this is a sort of continuation/companion piece to my other story fragment "**Drugs**" (Three Little Words, Chapter 2, 3rd Word). It's not entirely necessary to have read that before you read this, but it will make things a lot less vague and confusing. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep writing things in the Drugs universe or not, so this is a Teaser, a piece of Unfinished Business, and a sort of test run all in one. Let me know what you think, please, even if it a bit short. :)

**Summary**: Everything seems to be slipping out of Raven's control--her friend, his bad habit, and the confused feelings she has for him. One word seems to run through her life now like a theme: "Bang"

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!). Song belongs to Nancy Sinatra.

--

_"He shot me down/ Bang, bang/ I hit the ground/ Bang, bang/ That awful sound/ Bang, bang/ My baby shot me down."_

**_Nancy Sinatra – Bang Bang_**

--

"Bang" was the sound of the door he slammed in my face when I tried to get him out of the bathroom. I knew he was shooting up in there. He knew I knew.

"Bang" was the sound of my heart when I opened the door and he was collapsed on the floor there, and I couldn't tell if he was breathing.

"Bang" was the sound of his fist hitting the wall by my head. I'd flushed his stash, and he was wanting. I wondered if next time, the "bang" might be his fist and my face.

"Bang" was the sound of the headboard against the wall, a repeat rhythm that made me want to retch and cry.

"Bang" went his heartbeat under my hand, only once, and nothing more. Swearing and sobbing, I pushed more of my soul into him, and made it "bang" again.

"Bang Bang" was the song I sang in the shower as I tried to wash off the stink of our sweat. When he slid the curtain aside to join me, wearing that nostalgic grin, my chest went "bang". With just one smile, he had shot me down.

--

**AN**: Blame my continued addiction to the **Drugs** universe on Emania and Guyute24 particularly. Your responses to this will help me decide whether or not I really pursue this bad habit. Let me know?


	14. Satisfaction Brought Him Back

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. T, for teenagers

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. Ambiguousness abounds, mwahahaha

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. Drama/Romance/Comedy

**Author's Note**: I actually just found this the other day. o.o I had completely and entirely forgotten about it till I stumbled over it in a miscellaneous folder when I was cleaning out files. I think I originally started this as a prequel of sorts to **Breaking Up the Girl**, but it ended up going off in its own AU direction. Hmm... I just might, possibly, maybe, _think_ of adding this to my To Be Continued list. Tell me whatcha think, eh?

**Summary**: There's something about Raven--and Richard Grayson's going to find out what it is. AU

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of it (except the writing!).

--

Richard scanned the afternoon crowd seated at the numerous tables of The Blue Cat, a fairly new restaurant that was caught somewhere between jazzy coffee cafe and midscale dining establishment

Richard scanned the afternoon crowd seated at the numerous tables of The Blue Cat, a fairly new restaurant that was caught somewhere between jazzy coffee cafe and midscale dining establishment. Since its grand opening two years before, it had been popularized by the local youth in the hours after school and before dark, after which the GenX crowd moved on and were replaced by businessmen and women cooling their heels after a long day of work.

Richard spotted the impressive form of Vic and smirked when he noticed that his ex-quarterback friend was chatting up a dark-haired waitress about their age, his warm smile oozing charm. The girl flashed a brief smile back, shook her head and said something unintelligible over the din, and left the table to return to her duties.

Grinning, Richard walked over and slid smoothly into the chair opposite Vic. "Hey man. Fishing for phone numbers again?"

Vic glanced up at him from his cream and coffee. For a moment, his eyes were guarded and expression blank, but it melted quickly into his usual smirk. "Nah. Just making nice, you know me, Rich."

Richard chuckled. "Yeah, I know you, ya heartbreaker."

"Welcome to the Blue Cat. Today on special we have homestyle apple pie for 2.50 a slice. What can I get you?"

The scripted words were dropped in such a bored, shoot-me-now deadpan that Richard's lips twitched into an amused smirk of their own volition. His brows arched high as he looked up to find the same waitress Vic had been talking to standing before him, pen poised over a well-worn notepad.

She looked very uncomfortable in her dark blue mini dress uniform and black apron with navy-stitched cat over the chest, and everything from the way she stood to her slight, impatient frown screamed "I don't want to be here!" Her hair, which he had merely taken for dark from across the room, was a deep violet, the unusually hued long locks held back in a messy twist and adorned by a headband with little blue cat ears. The small white rectangle pinned over the left side of her apron identified her as Rachel.

"Um, just a coffee for me, please. Black." Richard smiled politely and wondered to himself why Vic would be flirting with her. It wasn't that she was ugly, or even particularly plain, but she just didn't seem his type. He tended to like girls who were more upbeat and sassy.

"Rachel" sighed, rubbed her forehead, and leaned over the table, bracing her weight on her hands. "Look, I'm gonna get canned if I haven't sold twenty-two specials by the end of my shift, and I'm up to eighteen. Please, do me a big favor, and buy a slice of pie. I don't care if you eat it or not, just so long as you order it."

Richard, who didn't quite know what to say, looked at the determined, consternated expression on the girl's face, and thought it couldn't hurt to buy one simple piece of pie.

He allowed the silence to stretch too long, however, and Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up straight, shoving her notepad into her apron pocket and preparing to go, when Vic stopped her with a brief touch at her elbow. "I'll get one. I could never turn down apple pie."

He smiled that smile of his again, and again, the waitress returned it, short and relieved. "Thanks, Victor. You saved my ass."

"No prob, girl."

She nodded and moved across the way to another table of high school guys, and Richard watched her go, thinking for some reason that he wished he'd been the one to help her out. It wasn't like buying pie was a noble or heroic deed, but for some strange reason he couldn't touch on, he wished he'd helped her, if only a little.

Turning back to Vic, he raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Just being friendly, huh? Funny, she's not your usual type. And I mean, come on. _Victor_? What was that?"

Vic rolled his eyes. "Man, it's not like that. I kinda know her is all. She's not somebody I'd be attracted to, but she's pretty cool."

"Where do you know her from?"

"Here, mostly. I put in a lot of study time here when the business crowd rolls in. It's quieter than the dorms."

Richard inclined his head in a can't-deny-that agreement, watching his friend unwrap his napkin roll and align his silverware in size order. He hesitated for a moment, knowing from the lapse in conversation it was time to change the subject, but he found himself curious about their waitress, especially as she seemed to be somehow connected to Vic. The black man might say he only knew her from the restaurant, but Richard recognized the protective hunch to his shoulders too easily.

"So..." he began, lingering on the word until Vic raised his eyebrows and looked up at him expectantly. "So Rachel—"

Vic's brows lowered like thunderclouds and he made a fast cutting motion with his hand. "Drop it, man. You are not about to make this girl into one of your little investigations."

Richard sat back in his chair, his own eyebrows hiking up his forehead from surprise and intrigue. "So there is something to investigate? Why are you so defensive of a waitress you barely know and only occasionally see, Vic?"

Vic leaned back, mimicking his friend's open, challenging posture, and crossed his arms over broad chest. "Leave it alone, Rich. You can't keep making people into projects. Remember how well that went with Kori?"

Richard, who had been leaning the chair back on its rear legs, blushed and let the chair settle back with a clatter on all four supports. "That's completely over now. You enjoy bringing the whole thing up just to make me squirm, don't you?"

Vic grinned wide at the accusation, and the two meandered into more generic topics of conversation, interrupted only by a brief visit from Rachel to deliver Vic's apple pie and refresh his sweet tea.

The afternoon crept towards evening, passing in a haze of good company, inside jokes, and friendly insults. After the lowering sun began casting long shadows through the Blue Cat's picture windows, it came to wrap things up. The working crowd had begun to dominate the ration of tables, and the two friends were beginning to feel young and outnumbered.

"Alright, alright," Vic mumbled, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. "Let's do this so I can hit the head."

"That's whatcha get for drinking all that sweet tea," Richard jibed, indicating the four empty glasses on the bigger man's side of the table, whipping out his own wallet. "Save your money, I got this one." he glanced at Vic's instantly stubborn expression and rolled his eyes. "You can cover the tip, if it satisfies your pride."

Vic grunted and placed a ten and a five on the table, setting the salt shaker atop them and standing from his chair. "Meetcha outside."

Alone at the table, shook his head and counted out twelve dollars and seventy-two cents, exactly. He liked to be precise. It was one of his quirks. Curiosity was another, and Vic's ludicrously high tip was making it itch like crazy.

Even if he liked the waitress, a fifteen-dollar tip on a twelve-dollar check was kind of ridiculous. What was it about this girl? Richard slipped his wallet back into his jeans pocket as he wondered. It wasn't that Vic wasn't nice to everyone. He was. He was a generally friendly and charming guy. And he definitely had a protective streak a mile wide, but while Vic might be friendly, the big brother routine was usually saved for his small inner circle.

And being a member of that small inner circle, Richard couldn't help but wonder where in the hell this girl had come from, and why he'd never heard anything about her.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"Your check."

Richard's chin snapped up, eyes meeting briefly with Rachel's guarded blues before she dropped them pointedly to the faux leather folder she had pushed across the table to him.

Summoning a charming smile, Richard indicated the money he had laid near Vic's salt shaker. "Twelve dollars and seventy-two cents, between the two of us."

Rachel shot a quick, incredulous look at the bills and coins, her fingers briefly flicking over them, counting. Her eyes suspicious rather charmed or curious, she turned back to Richard. "How did you know before I brought you the check?"

He shrugged, still smiling. "I know things." The smile turned a little sly, his eyes squinting a little as he leaned forward, intent on her. Interestingly, she stood where she was, but leaned back just slightly, perhaps unconsciously. "What I'd _like_ to know... is who are you to Vic?"

The girl's shoulders hitched slightly, her spine straightening and her face storming over. "We're acquaintances. Not that I can see how that's any of your business."

He shrugged laconically, watching her face unblinkingly. "Curiosity. Can't help it."

Seeming to suddenly remember she was on the clock, she scowled and dropped his gaze, busying her hands with gathering and stacking the detritus from the boys' meal, her sharp, quick movements underscoring her annoyance with him. "Curiosity _killed_ the cat, remember."

Richard grinned wide, leaning his elbows on the table, tracking her face with his eyes. "But satisfaction brought him _back_."

Her arms full of plates and cups and the money stuffed in her apron, Rachel gave him a last hostile glance, said frostily, "Tell Vic I said goodbye," and marched smartly away.

Chuckling, Richard watched her disappear into the kitchens before taking leave himself.

Outside, Vic stood waiting for him on the sidewalk. When he caught Richard's eye, his face went stern and businesslike. "What took you."

Richard shrugged, unable to completely wipe the smile from the corners of his mouth. "Had to wait for the check."

Blowing out his breath explosively, Vic shook his head and fell in step with Richard as he began walking down the street, shoving his hands in his pockets like he might like to wrap them around his friend's neck. "I _told_ you to leave her alone, Rich."

Richard chuckled and shot the taller man a wry look. "Might as well have handed me an engraved invitation. This keep-away game you're playing only makes her more interesting, you know."

Vic frowned at him. "You just gotta make _every_thing into a game, Richie Rich. Leave the girl be. She's not interesting, just private. And if you piss her off, I ain't gonna save you when she kicks your ass."

Richard's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Vic groaned, knowing instantly he should've just kept his mouth shut from the start. "You make it sound like she _could_ kick my ass, Vic."

"Shut up, man."

"_What_? They won't let me spar with the Judo Club anymore, so if she's a fighter, I'm merely pursuing a healthy hobby that we may have in common."

"You spend too much time schmoozing with Wayne, talking like that." Vic shook his head again, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "I only meant hell hath no fury like a woman annoyed by rich white boys who poke their nose where it don't belong. So if you get your tires slashed, I warned you."

"She plays dirty when provoked, huh?" Richard laughed at Vic's heavy sigh. "Curiouser and curiouser."

Sighing again, defeated, Vic rolled his eyes heavenward and steepled his hands in a praying gesture. "Please, God. Let me be there to watch when she kicks him in the balls. I'm gonna put it on YouTube."

--

**AN**: I changed the summary format of the story for this round, sort of a trial run to try and lure in new readers. Bwahaha. Did it work? Do you like? D8 Tell meee...


	15. The Greater Good

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. some strong language, graphic violence and heavy subject matter. It's dark and really damn angsty.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. No explicit pairings this round.

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. This is Tragedy/Action/Drama

**Author's Note**: Holy wow, the fourteenth installment of stuff-I-never-finished. This one is a bit of a wincer, so bear with me. I wrote this _aaaaaaaaaaaaaages_ ago, and have intended to revise it and post it much changed for the longest time. This keeps not happening, and as I begin to doubt it ever will, I have decided to add to the lot of Unfinished Business as is. In all its horror, crappiness, and aged melodrama. It's deeply, horribly flawed in many ways, and I never even manged the corrections needed after the kind and insightful suggestions of the likes of _**EmaniaHilel**_, _**Dust Traveller**_, and _**Jurodan**_. They must not be blamed for the shittiness. it's all me. So please read with the knowledge in mind that this was written _years_ ago (before the series completion, even), and is therefore very, very far from my best work ever. Please be kind.

_Part Two:_ Please forgive the repost, it didn't change the summary on the first notice last night, and I didn't want people to think it was a falsie. Thus, reloading.

**Summary**: After "The Beast Within", and a ways before "Birthmarks". Can fall either before or after "Haunted". Slade somehow survived Terra's last stand, but his mind may not have endured as well as his body. However, his insanity seems only to have made him more dangerous, as he sets in motion a diabolical plan that will test the mettle of every Titan and back them into a corner, the only escape from which is a price they may not be willing to pay. The Titans will not survive this one unscathed, and the world will be forever changed…

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this (except the writing!).

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_**The Greater Good**_

It was almost like any other meaningless battle with Slade, one of a thousand that the Titans had fought, won or lost, over and over and over again. There was, as always, that shining, trembling hope that this time, maybe this time they would get him, they would stop Slade for good and make him pay for everything he'd done.

Red X.

Robin's apprenticeship.

Terra.

And overshadowing that slim hope was the ever-present shadow of doubt, looming over their heads with an oppressive weight. What if Slade got away again? What if they failed? What if they never got him? What if, what if, what if… They shared these ugly suspicions in silence, feeding them with their own personal fears.

_What if he destroys my friends?_

_What if he takes away the last of my humanity?_

_What if we can never get Terra back?_

_What if I destroy us all?_

_What if I _am_ like him?_

But over it all, they fought with brave faces and fierce, daresay, corny battle cries, a million tiny shows of bravado that wove a blanket of lies over all the ugly truth. And they fought, like every other time before.

"Titans, go!"

The five teens charged headlong into battle, flashes of bright green punching holes through robotic minions, the pulse of a sonic cannon cutting swathes through their enemies. Animal noises rose high in the air; the cry of an eagle, a lion's roar. The sharp twang of a steel quarterstaff followed by electrical white noise as mechanical henchman fell to the ground.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"

A girder glowed darkly and detached itself from its rusted fellows, crashing loudly down to brutally crush a line of foes.

Laughing mockingly, Slade surveyed the scene and raised his arm, sighting down the length to the preoccupied Boy Wonder. Above the melee, a halfbreed girl shouted a warning to her fearless leader, the words drowning in the noise of combat. Panicking, she rushed to aid him, melting into the shadows.

Slade's finger twitched on the trigger as Raven rose from the shadows at his feet, blacklit fist raised for a strike. As the dark girl rose into his sights, that one visible eye widened, caught off guard, his shot ruined. But too late, the hair-trigger fired, and a small silver ball launched full speed from the device mounted on the fugitive's wrist.

The object slammed into Raven's chest at top speed from a mere foot away, knocking the breath from her lungs and throwing her back , towards the free-for-all where her teammates raged. She crashed to the warehouse floor, crumpled underneath her cloak.

The remaining robots stopped on a dime, leaping away from the teen combatants and behind towering stacks of crates and into darkened corners, as their master laughed high and loud.

Starfire, Cyborg, Beastboy and Robin all turned to face the cackling madman, tensed for attack, weapons at the ready, from luminous starbolts to gleaming raptor talons.

It was the Tamaranian who first noticed their fallen comrade, the glow transferring from fists to eyes as she dropped from the sky to lay a gentle hand on a blue-cloaked shoulder. "Raven! Are you damaged, friend Raven? Please, answer me!"

Beastboy was quickly kneeling with the girls in human form, carefully helping the moaning Raven to sit up. "Rae, are you ok? Dude, what happened to you?"

Raven placed a pale hand against a small round hole in the cloth over her sternum, feeling the reddened flesh whole but tender. The edges of the hole were singed, but whatever Slade had hit her with seemed to have disappeared into thin air. She breathed a shaky sigh of relief, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain that answered it. "I'm… alright. A little bruised, but nothing's broken."

"Slade! What's your game this time? Are you finally surrendering?" Robin stepped in front of his team, quarterstaff gripped tightly, just waiting to go to that dual-colored mask like a baseball bat. Hatred molded the Boy Wonder's expression, the domino mask hiding the burning fury in his eyes.

Slade chuckled again, arrogant, condescending. "Why Robin, such a silly question. You should know I never surrender." That single eye narrowed on the leader of the Titans, flicking a speaking glance to the half demon rising with assistance to her feet behind him. "And if you wish to know my game, I'd suggest you ask your little… _friend_." The maddening villain took a step back, throwing himself in shadow. "A slight variation on my original plan, but I think this will work just as well."

As Robin opened his mouth to demand more answers, a cloud of thick smoke burst around his nemesis, concealing him and providing his escape, as the quickly dissipating cloud revealed. Swearing lividly, Robin threw his staff to the ground with a loud clatter.

Taking a moment to collect his tremulous composure, Robin turned to face his grimly silent companions. "Everyone okay?"

Starfire gasped, peering under Raven's all-concealing hood. "No, everyone is not okay!" She pushed back the heavy cowl, revealing a wax-white Raven, cold sweat beading on her furrowed brow.

Robin's eyes widened behind the mask and he moved in front of her, Cyborg at his shoulder. "Raven, what's the matter! Are you alright?"

The dark girl seemed to take great effort in lifting her chin enough to peer muzzily up at the spiky-haired teen hero. She took several seconds to focus her cloudy violet gaze on the concerned faces above her, choked out in a hoarse, rasping whisper, "I… don't…" and collapsed bonelessly into the cradle of Starfire and Beastboy's arms.

"Ra—!"

**Titan Tower**

"…ven?"

She was floating somewhere dark, an oppressing gloom thicker than the shadows of her waking mind. Her body tingled fuzzily, warm and pleasantly numb, as if she were detached from the physical plane. Somehow, that struck her as odd, and she realized that in this hazy, disconnected state, she wasn't forced to stamp down on flickering emotions, and that the numbness seemed to affect her mind as well as her body. This realization struck a resonating chord inside her, and she began to float upwards, to the waking world.

Someone was calling her name.

"…Rae…"

The dark girl's lashes fluttered softly, before falling heavily back to her cheeks, weighted down by sheer weariness.

"…think she's waking up."

_Did I pass out?_

With this first coherent thought, color and sounds and life rushed back into the world, the mosaic of the neon vivid auras of her friends searing her inner eye before she clamped down on her paranormal senses, pulling powers and emotions tightly in rein as awareness flooded her body again.

For a few moments, she was nothing but the sense of her own body, the acute perception of each and every bump, scrape and bruise she'd accumulated in the battle, and most of all, a sharp, twisting pain that writhed and stabbed with every breath. A wince crossed her face and she recalled the final few moments she'd last been conscious in a quick rush, and vaguely wondered just what in the hell Slade had planned now.

She realized that she was being spoken to again and forced herself to set aside the physical pain and tune in.

"…What?"

"I asked how you were feeling. You just… suddenly collapsed." That was Robin. He was puzzled, worried, anxious, and…preoccupied? _Thinking of Slade._

"Yeah, Rae, you scared the shit out of all of us. How ya feelin', dark girl?" Cyborg, in all his brotherly concern and kind warmth. _He's confused._

"Oh, Friend Raven, we were so frightened! Please be well now!" Starfire was as melodramatic and overemotional as ever, hovering just at Raven's shoulder like a mother hen. It was as endearing as it was irritating. _She's terrified to lose her earth family._

"Man, Raven, you totally fainted! And you were so pale and clammy, like some kind of zombie or—!" Beastboy, overwhelmed and running off at the mouth, conveniently silenced by a large metal hand. _He's only afraid._

Raven blinked several times slowly in the bright, florescent lighting of the medical bay. She realized her back rested on the cold metal slab of the examination table, and thought vaguely that there was something wrong with that. Letting it float off into the shady corners of her slowly waking mind, she focused on her friends and what they were saying, finally managing a reply. "So I did black out." Licking her lips, she said in what she hoped was a reassuring way, "Well, at least I woke up."

Struggling into a sitting position with grimaces, grunts and a supporting hand at her back, she looked shrewdly at Cyborg, their resident doctor. "Question is, why did I black out in the first place? I've taken harder hits than that before."

Ill-concealed concern crossed the ex-athlete's human features and he turned away to look at various monitors, charts, graphs and diagrams. "Well, that's the thing. We're not exactly sure. So far, you scan normal, if a little weak and with a few bumps and bruises. But it's stranger than that."

Robin, who had been keeping his hand between her shoulder blades in case she fell back, moved more into her line of sight, taking over the explanation. "While nothing seems to be showing up on our equipment, there are other things that are more worrying than any alarming diagnostics." He pointed at her chest, and she looked down, oddly surprised to see the neat, singed round hole about an inch in circumference on the front of her leotard, just below the hollow of her throat. The reddened skin was a startling contrast to the dark cloth, and when she lightly touched a fingertip to the tender area, she confirmed with an in-drawn hiss that this was the source of the stabbing pain.

"Raven, why didn't you heal yourself? When you got caught between Beastboy and Adonis,"—the changeling flinched, but remained quiet—"you went into a healing coma, floating above the table and repairing everything down to your ripped fingernails. But now, you get hit with some mystery projectile, collapse, but you wake up with every scrape and bruise just as before. Why?"

A ripple of shock and alarm rang through her at his words, and she realized this was the vaguely _wrong_ thing that been bothering her since she woke up. Her eyes were wide and staring, and looks of dawning anxiety and fear began to steal over her friends' faces at her lack of response. "I…" It came out tremulously, and she shut her mouth with a click, swallowed, and tried again. "I don't know." Panic gripped her heart and squeezed, like a cold, clawed hand. Her gaze darted frantically between Cyborg and Robin, hoping to find some answer—any answer—from the two more levelheaded Titans. "What's wrong with me?"

A fine trembling started in her limbs when they glanced at each other, at her, and then away in opposite directions, as if unable to hold her eyes. At length, Cyborg spoke quietly, "I wish I could answer that, Rae, I really do. But the only thing that's certain is that it's got to do with Slade." Robin, to his credit, maintained control over his expression, though his fists clenched on the examination table. "Whatever he hit you with is obviously causing this, but we can't pick up anything wrong with you physically. Even the burn on your chest is normal, caused by intercepting and apparently absorbing something fired from close range. We just… we haven't got any answers right now, but I'll keep checking over all the results until I find something, Raven, I promise. Whatever's going on, we'll take care of it." He looked at her with a soft, almost wary smile that was meant to be reassuring, but wasn't in the least. "We always do."

Raven's gaze slowly drifted down to her lap, but she wasn't looking at anything. She reached to pull her cloak around her, but found it had been removed. Something inside her wailed at the absence of that consoling creature comfort. A blue-violet bundle was thrust into her line of sight, and she blinked, then snatched her cloak from Beastboy's hands and clutched it to her chest. Hiding the hole.

Raven slid carefully and sorely off the examination table, clasping the cloak about her shoulders, settling it carefully to conceal her down to the ankles. Pulling the hood over her head to hide her empty face in its shadow, she glanced up at her friends. They stood, hesitant, anxious, unsure whether to make her lie down again or allow her space. She stared at the air between Starfire and Robin and clenched her small hands on the inner folds of the cloak. "…I'm going to my room."

No one quite dared stop her as she walked slowly and stiffly through the door.

**Slade**

Slade "Deathstroke" Wilson sat in a room obscured by darkness, the only light garishly red, leering across his concealed face, that single, frighteningly cold and calculating eye running over a series of lists, diagnostics, scans, theorems and results.

This had been an interesting morning.

He had drawn out the Titans for a reunion, to let them know he wasn't nearly so dead as they had hoped. He had, of course, a devious, despicable, Machiavellian plot up his sleeve, and everything had gone perfectly, exactly as planned. They had crashed his stage with their furious captain at their head, and he had thrown a swarm of robots and replicates at them, the proverbial dust cloud that hid the blade rushing for the victim's gut.

But the demon's spawn had been more troublesome than he had anticipated. She had risen above and beyond the fray, for the advantage of position and perspective, and seen more than she had bargained for. She had a more militaristic mind than he'd given her due, and he'd been pleasantly surprised. If not for his prior engagement with Robin, he might have been persuaded to turn his sights to her.

But she had suited an interesting purpose in her own end.

He had not expected her sudden appearance in front of him, had not prepared for her to react so quickly in order to protect her leader. Starfire he had planned for, with her disgusting infatuation, but this girl he had dismissed.

So it was that the surprise gift he had intended for Robin came to be delivered to her, calling for much reordering and revising of his plans. But he found this would suit his intentions just as well—no, better.

He had re-familiarized himself with the halfling girl's physiology and the nature of the relationship between mind and body, power and physical state, and hypothesized the effects his surprise would have on her, how this would alter the outcome of his plans, and how he could twist it all to his advantage.

Finally, his eyes reading over the last few lines in his report, he smiled beneath the impassive oval of his mask.

He was pleased.

**Titans**

Raven lay back on her bed, tracing a circle absentmindedly over her breastbone, though she was dressed in a fresh leotard, the ring of tender, pink skin hidden under smooth cloth.

She did not brood. She did not repeat a mantra as familiar to her as breathing. She did not glance in the mirror that looked in on her inner world. She didn't rationalize, or obsess, or carefully inspect, prod, poke, investigate or study.

Very carefully, she thought of nothing at all.

The siren shrieked to life and awareness spiraled rapidly back into her gaze, like the focusing of a camera lens. She sat up and a knock came at her door just before it slid open, revealing, of course, Robin.

"There's a disturbance downtown. We'll be back soon."

She didn't bother to get angry or indignant, simply stood up and strode toward the door, calmly ignoring the protestations of her sore body. "Yes, we will."

Robin sighed, but didn't try further to dissuade her. He would get nowhere, and she might just teleport away. Until they had solved the mystery of Slade's newest plot, he didn't want her out of his sight for a minute outside the Tower.

There was grim silence in the T Car, as if they rode to war rather than to deal with an out of control burning building. Even Beastboy was under the shadow of this mood, his long repertoire of bad jokes far from his mind. Starfire sat silently, glancing anxiously from friend to friend, wishing desperately to brighten this dark tone but afraid to try. Cyborg stared at the road with unswerving vigilance, as if it were a major task requiring every ounce of his attention. Raven sat staring listlessly out the window at the rushing scenery, calmly ignoring Robin's watchful gaze from the rearview mirror.

When at last the T Car screeched to a halt at a corner in Jump City's West Side, the team mobilized quickly and deftly, as efficient as ever, because this was their job. No matter their own fears and troubles, the City came first. The needs of the many outweigh the few. A thousand small sacrifices on the altar of the Greater Good.

They stood—or floated, in Starfire's case—for a moment, glancing up and down the street, up at the sky. No smoke. No flames.

"Uh… where's the fire?" Beastboy scratched his head in confusion, wondering if they'd mixed up their locations.

"False alarm?" Cyborg ventured warily, scanning with human eye and mechanical processes for what could have happened to the disturbance they'd been called in on. There was nothing; no irregular heat signatures, no tripped alarms in the immediate area. The place was even deserted, no sign of human activity at all.

"But why would the fire department send in a call if there wasn't a fire? They've never been prone to pranks before." Robin was reaching for his communicator, prepared to call Jump City Emergency Services and see just what this was all about.

Before his fingers even flipped open the comm device, a low, insidious chuckle they knew all too well echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once. The Titans snapped to attention immediately, ranged in the middle of the street with a pair of eyes in each direction.

"There!" cried Beastboy, flinging out an arm and pointing at a darting shadow down the block.

"Titans, go!"

The team took chase, fanning out to track their target from various venues as the figure turned the corner of a building. Beastboy took to the air as a hawk, flying high while Starfire took low altitude. Cyborg moved to circle around the other side of the building, and Robin signaled for Raven to keep with him as he followed the original route.

Raven followed closely behind Robin's quick, darting form, stumbling occasionally and gritting her teeth against the pain of her every bruise and hurt making itself vividly known. Despite this hindrance, she persisted, pushing herself to remain hot on her leader's heels. If she fell back too far or breathed too heavily, he would stop. He would halt his pursuit of Slade, and he would make her go home. He would take her himself, just to make sure she didn't try a ruse.

Raven was a proud creature. She wouldn't let some silly little incident keep her out of the fight. She was also quite firmly in denial. To admit that she might not be fit for battle would be to admit that there could be something dangerously wrong. And she would much sooner run from that fear and pretend not to feel its breath on her neck than to face it and the possibility it represented.

So she clenched her jaw and called on all her training to breathe normally, and ignored the reasonable protestations of her body to keep pace with the Boy Wonder. He wasn't going to let her out of his sight for a moment, and she could not afford to compromise his concentration.

The twists and turns and maze of alleys and back streets blurred in her perception, and Raven kept her sole concentration on Robin, and it was the sheer force of her will that pulled her up just short of crashing against his back when he at last came to an abrupt halt.

Panting only as much as she thought such a chase might allow, Raven took in her surroundings at last.

There was no sign of Slade.

The Titans had converged on a courtyard in what appeared to be a recently cordoned-off section of the city, damaged heavily in one of the Titans' more recent and disastrous battles with the now-freelance team of HIVE operatives.

Star settled to the ground on the other side of Robin as Cyborg lumbered to a halt just behind them, Beastboy morphing back to normal to Raven's right. The team scanned the area nervously.

"Friends… to where has the villain Slade disappeared? Were we not following him but a moment ago?"

"Dude, how did we just lose him like that? One second he was there, and then poof!"

Cyborg frowned. "Rae, Rob, were y'all chasing him, in-sight, too?" Robin nodded, too intensely alert for a surprise trap to actually reply verbally. "Looks like we were _all_ chasing Slade. Or at least, we all thought we were."

"More imitation robots," Raven groused. "Which, of course, means we were obviously led here, probably for another of his heartwarming little 'fireside chats', in which he'll take sadistic pleasure mocking our ignorance of his diabolical schemes and naiveté for falling for his charade."

The others shot her an inquiring glance at her unusually loquacious grumbling, which she answered with a baleful glower that clearly stated "I'm tired, fuck you."

"Most accurate, my dear girl, if only a little behind the game," chuckled the dark and sinuous voice of Slade, with only minor static interference.

The Titans' collective attention turned to the large videoscreen affixed to the front of a tall commercial building directly in front of them, upon which Slade's hated image displayed, bisected by the spidery crack down the middle of the glass casing.

"Slade," Robin growled, predictably, "What's your 'game' this time? What do you want?" He slid into a defensive crouch reflexively, quarterstaff gripped loosely in his green-gloved fist.

Slade chuckled again, a barrel of laughs this afternoon. "Why, to answer your questions, Robin."

Raven's heart leapt into her throat without warning, and the words squeaked themselves breathlessly past it before she could stop them. "What questions?"

Slade's singularly menacing eye fixed on the dark sorceress, grayer than ever and washed out beneath the rich indigo of her cloak. "Aren't you scared, Raven?" he hissed, mockery and menace in his low voice. "Don't you just _hate_ not knowing?"

"What have you done to Raven?" Robin demanded, placing himself slightly before the wavering girl.

Slade seemed to smile. "Something terrible, of course, Robin. Though I must admit it was originally intended for you."

Robin balked somewhat at this, but quickly resumed his hardened anger. "What are you talking about!"

The view panned back, expanding to show Slade seated casually in an armchair, dramatically offset against the dark background by a spotlight. The nefarious Deathstroke leaned back and crossed his hands over his abdomen, as if preparing for a lengthy story. He was obviously relishing every moment of this, and that did not at all augur well for the Titans.

"I have recently come to the conclusion, dear children, just what my goal is concerning your little group, and this city.

"Concerning you Titans, I simply wish to destroy you. Slowly, perhaps, and with much agony. I want to inflict upon you desperation and self-loathing, to divide your group by your own doubts and fears. I would see you turned against each other, to make enemies of yourselves and your friends.

"As for Jump City… I wouldn't mind seeing it burned to the ground, or devoid of all life. However, this is secondary. A fringe benefit, with your downfalls my main objective. I would also be quite happy to see the city you so love turned against you. And I had at last derived a plan to achieve both of these, and perhaps more.

"This plan was ingenious, and very, very easily enacted. All I need do was unveil myself to you again as living and still a thorn in your costumed sides; the perfect bait. And you came. However, this was where a little unforeseen… hiccup occurred in my plan."

Slade looked again at Raven, who shrank deeper into the folds of her cloak, wishing to disappear, or to block her ears; she didn't want to hear the rest of this story. Cyborg placed a large, supportive hand on her shoulder, and she bit her lips together to keep them from trembling.

Slade continued. "I prepared to plant the seed of your destruction with Robin. However, I had not anticipated the loyalty and foresight of you, dear girl, and you got in the way just in time to change everything."

Raven's hand pressed involuntarily to her breastbone; the circular burn seemed to tingle sensitively, the pins-and-needles sensation of numbed flesh awakening.

"The projectile you took to the chest was a very sophisticated tool, the culmination of months of development and experiments in nanotechnology. The thin shell contained a strong and lethal concoction, a marriage of science and magic unlike anything before. Upon impact, the nanobots encasing this solution burned through your clothing and assimilated into your flesh, penetrating into your heart and releasing the contagion directly into your bloodstream, which, by my estimation, should have circulated fully and completely into your body system by this point, especially considering your vigorous exercise most recently."

Raven felt her knees threaten to buckle, leaning solely on the unfailing support of Cyborg's hand for a moment before she collected the tatters of her strength and stood on her own again. Cyborg did not remove his hand, and she was grateful for it.

"Now, had my little present hit its intended target, Robin would have proceeded to rapidly debilitate, the poison killing him over a matter of several hours. In the meantime, all his aggressions would turn outwards, and his mind would degenerate into a thing of instinct and reaction. The potion would ensure that his first victims would be the four of you, and when at last he died, as his corpse decomposed rapidly, it would release into the air a gaseous form of the poison. This would in turn travel throughout the city with similar effects on the populace, dissipating some few miles beyond Jump City's borders."

The Titans were struck dumb with the magnitude and sheer horror of the could-have-beens, and the looming what-might-be still unknown before them.

Pulling strength from she knew not where, Raven drew herself up and stepped beyond Cyborg's reach, standing next to Robin with an expression more dispassionate than she felt by miles. "And now that I'm the bearer of your miniature Apocalypse?" She winced inwardly at her choice of words. "What now, Slade?"

The villain chuckled at her brave face. "Now, my dear Raven… everything's changed. My plan has stretched to fill a much broader scale now."

Starfire gasped at the thought, Beastboy and Cyborg struck dumb. Robin was at a complete loss, and Raven's last hopes drained away with the color in her cheeks.

"You, girl, are now a walking time bomb. You will find, if you have not already realized, that your powers are no longer at your disposal. Your minor capacity for healing has been turned internal, which is why you will not degenerate physically as Robin would have. However, after your defenses finally fall away—and rest assured, they _will_ do so—your mind shall succumb to murderous madness. The magic of my gift should have sealed off your telekinetic and teleportation abilities, somewhat like damming a firehose with a cork; when your mind goes, they will unleash manifold, and all of your controls and defenses will have worn away. When that time comes, you will destroy much of the city, and kill thousands. But that will only be the first wave."

The sinister man leaned forward eagerly, and the view closed in on his masked face. "And don't bother searching for a cure or a counterspell; you will never find such a thing in time." The world seemed to be tilting off its axis. "However… there is one, only one, condition that will help you to escape this inevitable conclusion."

There was a tense, silent pause, and it became obvious the sadist wanted them to ask for it.

"What is it?" Robin ground out, swallowing his pride and putting a leash on his fury.

Again, that frightening notion of a smile. "An elimination of the threat before it has time to become one, of course."

Raven's vision spiraled down to a white pinprick, and she heard the voices of her friends all cry out in outrage, indignation and desperation all at once as if from very far away, all loud voices and indistinct sounds.

And then the world slid out from under her feet, and Raven fell away.

**Titan Tower**

The Teen Titans, minus their sorceress, sat in the conference room, ranged around the round table in their accustomed seats, the empty chair between Starfire and Cyborg all too conspicuous.

"We will get through this, Titans," Robin was saying, his manner too calm for honesty and his voice gently commanding. "We'll find a way; we always do."

"…And what if we don't?" Beastboy's quiet, dismal question brought everyone's attention to the usually upbeat changeling. His head hung in his hands, elbows propped on the table. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to hide the fear and hopelessness there. He wasn't ready to go through this again; just the possibility was terrifying, filling him with an exhausting anxiety. "What if we can't figure it out? What if there is no cure? What will we do then, Robin? Will Raven have to sacrifice herself, like Terra did? Do we refuse to let her go, and say to hell with the rest of the world?"

The bitter gravity was not anything they had anticipated from the youngest member of the group, but when they thought of how he'd been affected by Terra, it wasn't as shocking as first it seemed.

Robin, however, had gone into take-no-prisoners mode. Just as seriously, he steeled his unreadable gaze on the disconsolate shapeshifter, gloved fists clenched loosely and carefully in view atop the table. "None of those are options, Beastboy. Don't even think about them; I said we're going to pull through this, and we _will_. Failure is not an option."

There was a momentary silence where everyone struggled to grasp onto their leader's words for a measure of hope, tried to make themselves believe it.

Cyborg was almost reluctant to voice his thoughts, but he wanted all bases covered. "Robin, man… maybe we should hand this one over to the higher-ups. I think this situation may be out of our control."

Robin's stare sharpened on the mechanized man like a laser focus. "Call in the Justice League? That is even less of an option, Cyborg." Robin struggled with this next part; he was uncomfortable sharing this information with the others without Raven's explicit consent. "We wouldn't get any help from them, Cy. The only reason we exist as a team is because the Justice League refused to hear Raven out; they denounced her as beyond their help. They're not likely to jump to our aid at this point."

Starfire was confused. "Does not the Justice League take care of our finances?"

Robin sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Not exactly. Batman's the one funding us, but because he's using a large portion of his personal JL budget to do so, everything's got their stamp on it. And if I know Batman, he's likely to say that this needs to be dealt with within the Team; he won't step in unless the situation becomes truly dire, and only then at the last minute. His eye is on damage control, not babysitting."

Starfire was indignant. "Is the situation not already truly dire? Our friend is in grave peril; her life is at stake, and the future of the city is in jeopardy!"

Robin's words were harsh, cold, and true. "In other words, Star, business as usual. We run those exact risks every day, whether we're hauling in Mumbo or tangling with the HIVE. It's in the job description." He could just hear his mentor's voice now, unemotional, harsh and instructive. This would be a "learning experience", he would say; nothing he and the Titans shouldn't be able to handle.

"This is bullshit," Cyborg spat, running his large metal hands over his face. He glared at the table, his jaw working as he held back the rest of his sentiments. "Tell us what it is you want us to do, Rob. You're our leader; start handing out the orders if you're going to shoot down all our suggestions."

Robin opened his mouth to reply, closed it with a click, and clenched his jaw as he reined in his temper. Everyone was frustrated, anxious, and scared; tensions were bound to be running high. He'd just have to let it go. "Cyborg, you pretty much know your job; you've got blood and tissue samples, and Raven's neural algorithms; start trying to unravel this puzzle and find us a cure."

Cyborg just nodded, his big hands empty, useless.

"Star and BB, I want you to trade off watching over Raven; if her condition changes, for better or worse, notify everyone. Everyone is on Comm. Standby until further notice."

Starfire nodded, her pretty face still etched with a frown, but no ready arguments on her lips.

Beastboy ran his hands through his hair and passed them over his face, looking edgily at the implacable Boy Wonder. "What about you? What're you gonna be doing?"

Robin made no betraying moves; his expression, his voice, never changed, never flinched. "I'll be patrolling the city." He chose to ignore the soft, derisive snort. "We may have a crisis, but crime's not going to take five to give us time to collect ourselves. Someone has to be watching out for Jump City."

Another short, strained silence.

"Alright, you know your assignments; let's get to work, Titans." And with that, the meeting was dismissed, and Robin quickly quit the room, off to scour the city for criminals on which to work out his misplaced aggressions.

The remaining three teens looked at each other, at the walls, the floor, their hands.

Beastboy picked up a stray pen from the tabletop and hurled it angrily at the wall behind Robin's vacated seat. "Rrraagh! He is so _full_ of it! 'Patrol the city' my skinny green ass!" He jabbed his finger almost accusingly at Cyborg, who only looked on grimly. "He's running away, and everybody knows it! He's just as messed up about… about _this_ as we are, but he just doesn't want to have to deal with it!"

No one defended their leader; what would be the point? It was disheartening, but true. Not even Starfire quite felt like standing in Robin's corner for him. He had abandoned it, and she couldn't bring herself to make his excuses for him this time. Cyborg couldn't seem to open his mouth to say anything; not that he knew what he would say if he could. Everything was sort of a deserted calm inside his head, but he could feel the anger and helplessness simmering dangerously below the surface, kept just out of reach by a thin barricade of self-restraint.

"This is such bull," Beastboy mumbled, shoving away from the table, his chair grating against the floor mutinously. He stalked out of the room, headed for destination unknown; it didn't really matter. If he stayed in that room with those quiet, stony faces any longer, he'd either start screaming or sobbing, and he wasn't sure he could stop if he started either.

Cyborg sighed long and tired, rubbing at his temple, managing to say quietly for Star's benefit, "I'm going to get started researching." He didn't dare make any platitudes or promises.

And then Starfire was left at the last, bereft and alone and frightened and sick at heart; she'd never felt such despair, as if she would never be able to fly again.

…

Raven awoke to the comfortingly familiar surroundings of her dark and gloomy bedroom. No light peered behind her curtains, and she wondered how long she had been out. She seemed to be fainting rather frequently of late.

Turning at a soft noise to her left, Raven found Starfire looking weary but relieved in a chair beside her bed. "You are awake. Good. I feared…" The slender girl's verdant eyes shone suspiciously and she blinked several times, smiling with several degrees less cheer than normal. "We were all very worried."

Raven felt awkward for a moment, and obscurely grateful her empathy seemed to have followed her other powers and was out of commission. If she could read at any depth beneath Starfire's thin façade, she thought that they might both break down, and that it would not be pretty.

Pushing herself into a seated position against pillows and headboard, Raven gave Starfire a short pause to strengthen her resolve. "…Where are the others?"

"Beastboy has been on the roof for the past few hours; I could not coax him to come down. Cyborg is in the lab, looking for answers." There were very carefully no "ifs" or doubts. She said it in a way that firmly established that Cyborg _would_ find the answers, but that it would only take time; if only either girl were convinced by this conviction. If only they _had_ time.

Raven hesitated, then murmured, "And Robin?"

Starfire wavered briefly, then replied in a soft voice too forcedly light. "Robin has… gone to patrol the city."

The girls sat in silence for a moment, Raven picking nervously at the hem of the blanket as it lay in her lap. "At least… he isn't shut off in his room, I suppose," she offered weakly.

Starfire flashed a small smile that died a quick death.

There was nothing but air for endless moments; the breath rasping past their lips, the air conditioning humming in a subsonic hush. One breath shuddered, paused.

"I do not wish to lose you."

It was a tremulous whisper, desperate and heartbroken.

Raven looked at her dear friend with no words of comfort or reassurance to offer honestly, her heart wrenching. Starfire looked up into her eyes, face crumpling, and flung herself onto the other girl, who merely cradled her in her arms as she sobbed, stroking her long hair from her wet cheeks.

Some several moments later, Starfire pulled away, hiccuping and wiping the tracks of wetness from her face.

"Starfire… Kori…" Raven's voice broke, and she allowed the silence to fall again. Star was looking at her with that last forlorn hope in her eyes, silently begging the dark girl to smooth it all over with soft words and easy sarcasm, to tell her it would all be alright, that everything would be fine; that they would figure it out, because they were the good guys, and the good guys were always supposed to win.

She could not.

Horror and a shattering rapid hope loss dawned on Starfire's pretty face, and she shook her head slowly. Choking on another sob, she fled the room, unable to face the inevitable.

Raven stared at the closed door for several unblinking moments as a whirlwind of thoughts flew round and round in her head. Pulling her knees to her chest, she laid her cheek atop them, face screwing up in despair. She trembled uncontrollably, and a single lonely tear squeezed past her lashes.

This couldn't be real. It wasn't supposed to end this way. It was so soon, _too _soon.

Raven had never deluded herself with fantasies of a happily ever after, but she had thought she would have more time than this. Another few months, or another couple of years… not here, not now, not so…unexpectedly.

It was so damned ironic. She had lived her life in fear of something very like this happening, had wasted her youth and years under tight, self-imposed constraints, dutifully training and meditating and honing her control, for what? What use was it all now?

She had anticipated the coming of Trigon, of her father's demonic heritage testing her, calling her, pushing her strength and trying her willpower, of his bid for possession. That, she had expected, anticipated with a nervous fear and wary vigilance. But she had known it was coming, had been given every warning, all the time, it seemed, in the world to prepare. And now, it was all for _nothing_. Trigon didn't matter anymore; she would very soon be well beyond his reach.

Her entire life had been a waste. Her purpose, her goals… all so suddenly ripped violently away. She had risked her all to come here and plea for the heroes of this realm to help her save them, but they had decreed her past the point of salvation, and dismissed the danger she would protect them from. And so, with the assistance and direction of the surprisingly sympathetic Batman, she had gathered other young heroes, a cadre of superpowered misfits to assemble and forge into a suitable team to combat her future, alongside the Dark Knight's ex-sidekick.

What a joke.

They had assembled, they had trained. They had forged friendship and camaraderie through fire. And even still, she had not told them why. They hadn't really needed a reason. All they had needed was to be supplied with a direction in their unusual lives. Only Robin had had any knowledge of her motivations and circumstance, the vaguest of ideas as to her true intentions, and he had seemed to forget them easily.

So much, gone… so much wasted. So many useless years and fruitless pursuits. So much effort that would never see a conclusion.

_Azar, Mother, what would you say if you could see me now? Their prophecies never mattered; they need fear me no longer. I will never be a threat to anyone's peace or serenity ever again._ Raven muffled a low, miserable keening against her knees. _Mother, how can you forgive me? You've wasted yourself, guarding the gates from him; his key has been snatched away. Will you know? Will you finally be free from the chains of that responsibility?_

The room suddenly seemed too small, _so _small. The walls were too close; the ceiling was too low. She couldn't _breathe _in here. Reflexively, she tried to phase through the floor; nothing happened, as if the power had never been there.

Stuffing her panic and misery and wretchedness into a little box deep inside her, Raven leapt from her bed, stumbling as her ankle caught in the sheet. Wrenching free, she staggered across the room, slamming her palm on the keypad and rushing through the door as soon as the opening was wide enough to admit her.

Out in the brightly-lit hallway, everything took on a hue of surreality, as if it were all just some horrible nightmare, from which she would awake with a fading fever to worried friends and a normal routine ready to be resumed.

That life had already been stolen from her; it was already changed. The realization that she would never again put up with Robin's corny battle cries, never referee another game of Stank Ball, never trail behind Starfire at the mall again turned her stomach, and what little she'd ingested that day roiled warningly.

Raven lurched down the hall and made it into the bathroom just in time, her stomach emptying itself into the toilet as if she could purge the reality of this horror from her system. When there was nothing left to give up, she sat on the cold floor on her knees, trembling and sweating, her forehead resting against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl.

Her breath hitched and violent shudders ripped up her spine, her face contorting as she held back the waves of despair that threatened to break over her head and leave her lost and drowning.

She shoved unsteadily to her feet and flushed the toilet, then turned the shower on hot, shedding her cloak as steam began to haze the room.

Peeling out of her leotard, Raven sat down in the floor of the shower and huddled into a corner, wrapping her arms loosely around her knees as the scalding spray reddened her skin and soaked her hair. At last, she allowed the tears to flow, to track down her face and fall from her chin, vanishing down the drain with the rest of the water, hidden and unnoticeable. She'd never known any other way to cry.

…

"Hey, Sparky! What's up?"

Cyborg smiled wearily at the image of Bumblebee on his communicator screen, warmed by her light, ever-confident countenance. He thought of the news he was about to break to her and his spirits plummeted again. His smile dropped off his face as if it had never been, leaving him looking bone-tired and deeply sad.

A wrinkle of concern formed between the Titans East leader's brows, and she smiled warily, trying to draw out her favorite Tin Man with a teasing, "What's got you so down in the dumps? You look like somebody ran over your dog." She paused, eyed him seriously for a moment. "Beastboy _is_ okay?"

Cyborg grunted quietly, mouth twisting briefly in a sad parody of a smirk. "He's doing about as well as can be expected, given the circumstances."

Bumblebee tilted her head to one side, frowning. "What're you going on about, Sparky? What _circumstances_? I don't like the way you're talkin'."

Cy ran a cold hand over his face, rubbed at his mouth, stare locking unseeingly at the unchanged data on the medlab screens. "It's bad, Bee. Real bad." He sighed, eye squeezing shut against the screaming fear and confusion hiding behind the locked door in the back of his head. "I just needed somebody to talk to… needed to talk, and everybody here's just so damn close to breaking down, and Robin's so fucking deep in denial I think he's starting to believe his own bullshit, I just can't…"

He trailed off, staring down at his feet and biting his tongue.

Bumblebee's face went solemn and understanding, her lively eyes calm and smart mouth speaking soft words. "Oh. Yeah, we heard Slade hit back in town…"

Cyborg laughed, a harsh, bitter sound like a rude awakening. "Man, I _wish_ it was only Slade. God, do I wish, Bee…"

Bumblebee was losing patience with his evasive statements. "Listen up, boy, you _tell_ me what's goin' on there before _I_ get fed up. What the hell is the problem that's got _you_ so out of sorts?"

An immense sadness dragged down on his strong features, the weight of the world dropping all at once on his great shoulders. Lips thinning, he looked directly at the girl on the screen as his heart broke for another. "It's Raven. And Slade. God help that sick bastard for what he's done to her." Stony anger stole into his steel-blue eye and clenched his square jaw.

He explained the horror that was their reality, the waking nightmare the madman had thrust upon them, sparing no detail, all his anger, frustration and stark terror for the young half-demon he valued like family adding dire gravity to his words.

Bumblebee listened attentively and without interruption, the dawning of sadness and anxiety staining her proud mien. When at last Cyborg finished the grim tale, they sat for a moment in reflective silence, each trying to grasp and understand the awful thing that lay before them.

At last, Bumblebee broke the heavy quiet, subdued and awkward. "Cyborg… Is there anything we can do? Should we come out there? …Do you need me there?"

"I _need_ to wake up from this nightmare… but no… We're all just standing around uselessly 'cause there's nothing we can do. Of all the times to be helpless… No, Titans East is needed in Steel City. I just… I needed someone to talk to. Thanks, Bee."

"Hey, I'm glad you let us know. And I'm always a call away if you need me at all, you know that, Sparky." The nickname wasn't teasing, but affectionate and comforting. Bumblebee offered him a sad half smile. "You'll call and let me know if anything changes, anything at all, right?"

"Yeah. I'll be in touch."

"Alright… you keep looking; you can't give out hope that there's something that can be done. If anybody can find it, it's you, Sparky. In the meantime, I'll… I'll go break the news to the boys. I'll try and keep 'em from buggin' you on the comm, but I can't promise anything once they know."

"I understand. Thanks again, Bee."

"No problem. You take care. Give Raven my love. Bumblebee, out."

Cyborg placed the silent communicator gently on the console in front of him, hanging his head in his hands. He was just so tired, and he wanted to do nothing but sit and sob himself dry for the first time in years… since the accident. He felt so useless, so damned helpless, so… hopeless.

He hadn't told Bumblebee… everything. No, not by far. He wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. To utter the words aloud would make them real. He wasn't ready for things to get worse.

Cyborg glared abhorrently up at the data screen. For an hour and a half he had been sitting with this horrible knowledge staring him shamelessly in the face, irrefutable and undeniable. He had his answer. He didn't want it.

The verdict he'd reached through all his exhaustive research, through his painstaking search for that elusive glimmer of hope… it slapped him in the face and laughed, mocking him with its terrible truth.

He couldn't do a damn thing to help her. He was a day late and a dollar short at the most crucial moment. All his genius, all his invention and ingenuity meant nothing now. His smarts had carried him very far for a long time, farther than was… _humanly_ possible… but they could take him no further. He was rendered useless in the time of Raven's greatest need.

His search for answers condemned her last chance. His quest for salvation damned her irredeemable.

There was no cure.

**Jump City Streets**

Robin perched on the gargoyle waterspout of one of the city's many skyscrapers, staring intensely into the darkness. He wouldn't have noticed if a mugging happened directly below him.

The wind whipped through his hair and flushed his cheeks, unseasonably cold and bitter, biting his exposed skin with numbness. He'd have laughed at the pathetic fallacy if he'd thought it wouldn't come out manic and shrill.

He'd always known something like this could happen. Unlike some of the other Titans, whose youth still retained some innocence and naïveté, Robin had spent far too many late nights prowling Gotham's dark underbelly to be caught completely unawares by this. It was shocking, painful, horrible… but not entirely unexpected.

Robin was the leader. He had to be prepared for anything.

He'd even thought he was.

He had known exactly what he would do, the orders he would give, the outcomes he would arrange should this sort of thing occur, had known _exactly_ what to do, every step of the way… in theory.

It was easy to think you knew how you would react to something extreme or tragic, easy to plan out what you would say and do… but so much harder to do it. The reality of the event was always so much bigger, so much sharper, so much more _here_ and _now_ than you could ever prepare for. It kicked you in the teeth and presented you with a million and one variables and anomalies you had never thought to consider, ripping through your careful plans and delicate speeches like cloudstuff.

None of his brave and heroic scenarios panned out with Slade's plan. He'd been utterly outmaneuvered and backed into a corner so fast he could barely comprehend the wall at his back. It was always like that with that crazed bastard.

He'd made Robin into a puppet again, and he had no choice but to move in the steps dictated by Slade's tangled strings. In the end, it was once again between Robin and Slade, and Slade had won before Robin ever set his pieces on the board. And Raven was the madman's winning play.

He was left with a set of terrible choices, of making the smallest sacrifice. But no matter what… he _would_ have to sacrifice.

He could refuse to give up, and take the battle to Slade, and they would fight the good fight… and then Raven would lose her mind. And the death toll would start ticking away.

He could lock Raven away somewhere, quarantine her away until she destroyed herself slowly and agonizingly.

He could call the Justice League… and get the door slammed in his face. There was _no way _they would help. They'd just shake their noble heads with solemn and apologetic frowns, communicating "I told you so" in venerable silence.

None of them would do. In every one of them, he condemned the city to massacre, or Raven to a torturous and excruciating end. His back was to the wall. There was no way out.

He wished so hard, _so hard_, that he could believe his little sermon to the others, that _they would_ get through this, that it would _be okay_. Hell, _they_ hadn't swallowed it. Not that he could blame them. The situation was as bleak as it got, with no dawn in sight.

It was just so damn hopeless.

Because there was only one thing Robin could do.

Only one choice he could make.

The smallest sacrifice.

_Oh God…_

He'd never felt so hollow.

**Titan Tower**

Raven sat before her vanity mirror, carefully combing through her hair. It was still wet, dark with the moisture, vaguely resembling the color of blood under the moonlight in her dim room.

Blood isn't red in the dark. It's black, like men's souls.

Was Beastboy still up there on the roof? A rumble at the window threatened rain. He'd be soaked if he didn't come inside out of his mope.

Had Starfire pulled herself together? Should she go looking for her, or would that only make things worse? Raven couldn't handle the Tamaranian's hysterics and keep up her own front right now.

Cyborg wasn't still cooped up in the lab, searching for cures he wouldn't find was he? She hoped not. She knew he wouldn't find anything. What Slade had pulled off was nigh impossible to manage, mixing science and magic a dangerous and uncertain field few but ancient and long-gone-by alchemists managed to tread. Undoing such a rare event would take more time and research than she could afford, and there was no way to be certain what Slade had even done, short of walking up to him and asking for a step-by-step outline.

Perhaps she should go talk to the team elder. Let him know the pressure was off. Not that it was a very cheering bit of information, but it would keep him from wasting his time on fruitless pursuits.

Was Robin still out haunting the city? She wondered how many hapless cutpurses had fallen victim to his pent-up temper. The poor bastards. Again, that warning growl from the heavens. He'd catch cold if he got caught in the rain. Now was no time to be getting sick.

Raven set her comb down on the dresser and picked up her communicator, debating on whether or not she ought to even try. The boy was more obstinate than any mule, and with an impulsive streak that made dealing with him twice as aggravating.

She hit the button, and the response was almost immediate.

"What's the re—Raven?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Robin. I'm not dead yet."

He cringed, and she wished life had Rewind and Rewrite.

"Where are you, Robin?"

"…Around town."

She raised a brow at him. "I hadn't noticed. Do you intend to scour the city for petty thieves all night? Because if you're dead set on it, be my guest; just don't come crying to me when you catch pneumonia out in the storm that's rolling in."

He looked genuinely surprised and glanced towards the heavens. "I hadn't even noticed the rainclouds." _What a surprise._ "I'll head back." He paused, looked at her as if searching for something. "When did you wake up?"

"Only a couple of hours ago."

"Oh… Have you seen Star or Beastboy?"

"Starfire was here when I woke up. I shooed her off after I assured her I wasn't about to spontaneously combust."

Another flinch from the Fearless Leader.

_Great, Raven, just smashing. Reeaally on a roll tonight._

The two birds stared at each other awkwardly for a long moment.

"So, uh… how're you feeling?"

"Not much, at the moment. I'll let you know when the numbness wears off." She wasn't looking forward to that at all. She could just imagine the hysteric screaming.

"Oh. Uh, okay. Well, uh… I'll be home in a few minutes. Raven, round up everyone in the common room, would you please?"

"Sure. Planning a speech?"

"No… Just wanting everyone together, I guess."

_Oh yeah… we don't have much longer for group hugs and kumbayas._

It hit with a pang, like a stab to the heart. She didn't want to let go of her friends. They were, in essence, as close to the thing called family as Raven had ever come. She missed them already, and suddenly wanted nothing more in the world than to sit in the common room with them and watch their faces and listen to their voices.

She wanted Beastboy and Cyborg to be arguing over the Gamestation or meat vs. tofu. She wanted Starfire reciting the 4000 verses of the Tamaranian Poem of Togetherness, or concocting her viscous but heartfelt foodstuffs. She needed Robin to be answering questions or breaking up fights, or joining in them, or sitting at the table blaring his music and scribbling notes and poring over crime files and police reports.

She craved their strange idea of normalcy like nothing else, needed it more than she could ever have imagined she would. All those times she got irritated and frustrated, or disgusted with them, she wanted to take it all back. Just now, it all sounded like Heaven.

Blinking back the slow sting behind her eyes, Raven carefully wrought her face into that old empty mask, blank like an empty canvas forever to be denied the grace of color. "We'll be waiting for you. Try not to come in too soaking; I always get left the mopping."

Wistfully, she half hoped he would stroll in dripping; she wouldn't mind the simple chore. It wasn't as if she'd ever get another chance to grumble over the soapy bucket.

"Be there in a few." He'd had to pause before replying, and she knew by the stillness in his face that he was thinking in the same lines she was; these were their last times. Every moment was suddenly so much more valuable, carried so much more weight. She knew he'd be there as fast as he could, if only to confirm with his own hidden eyes that she hadn't faded away to nothing in his brief absence.

They signed off simultaneously, and she stared at the blank little oval of glass, her mind awhirl with the words _might have_, _should have_, _could have_, and _if only_ until her vision hazed and blurred around the edges.

Drawing her fingers harshly across her eyes, she clipped the lightweight yellow comm to her belt and stood, swirling her cloak about herself concealingly, comfortingly, and slipped out into the hallway with only the whisper of cloth.

…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**AN**: Oh, god, that's just... _siiiiiigh_. Please be kind. Eek.


	16. A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. (We have T for this little gem.)

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy (This'n's Raven/?/Other! =D I love myseries)

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. (This one's a mess of damn near everything.)

**Author's Note**: Hey! I'm back (sort of). Currently working (haltingly) on updates for Awkward Entanglements and Under the Skin. This is both filler and something of a bribe. Love to Emania for her initial support and serious gratitude to Kysra for her kind and enthusiastic assistance.

**Summary**: This may be confusing. So let me go ahead and throw out some serious exposition and explanation. This is a random segment planned for somewhere in the course of events in a story I have been considering for a little over a year... a Batman Beyond/Teen Titans crossover. In which, basically, Raven is somehow transported into the Tomorrow Knight-era future of Gotham City (ala that episode of Static Shock). And, at least for some while, stuck there. She's staying with Bruce Wayne, now crusty, old and meaner than ever, in hopes he may discover a way to send her back to her own place and time. Meanwhile, during her tenure in the future, she ends up helping out the new Batman, Terry McGinnis, smack some bad guys around on Gotham's meaner-than-ever streets. In this particular segment, during one such ass-kicking, name-taking session, things (as they will do) go terribly awry, and Terry is critically injured. We enter our scene with Raven beating herself up Robin-style and healing Terry. You make read into the rest what you will, and please, let me know if this intrigues you. Because so far, EmaniaHilel and GuardianKysra are enthusiastic, but I just don't know. I figure I'll go ahead post this here despite my indecision, since I went ahead and spoiled my deviantART viewers. In fact, you can find me there as InAbsentia, with most of this fragment posted along with an accompanying sketch by me. Check it out for extra fun!

**Disclaimer**: I own the grand sum total of NOTHING. So there. The title of this one comes from the song Hallelujah, in this particular instance as performed by Imogen Heap, as it was the musical force behind the writing.

* * *

Raven exhaled shakily as she let her hands fall to her sides, the palms tingling to the point of stinging from the prolonged contact with Terry—physically and psychically. She swept a last tired, critical glance over his half-dressed still form on the cot, her mouth tucking in at the corners in a bare wince at the amount of damage still left. His scrapes and cuts had healed over under the blood on his skin, leaving behind bright shiny pink scars that would fade within the week, and around them his skin was just beginning to discolor with the blues and yellows of bone bruising. He wasn't one hundred percent yet, but he would heal; Batman would go on to fight another day, and Terry would, too.

Nibbling absently at the inside of her lip, she wished that was enough, wished she could do more. Just the thought caused a spark like static electricity across her fingertips, painful and warning; overdoing it would only wipe her out more than she could afford—she was tottering on her last legs as it was. Knowing she'd pushed herself to the edge still didn't abate the gnawing of guilt.

"You've done good work."

It was a sign of how wearied she was that she visibly startled at the sound of Bruce's graveled voice. Sighing, suddenly sick to death of doing acrobatics on an oil-slicked tightrope in order to constantly appear composed and controlled, she shoved her hand roughly through her hair, leaving it a sweat-matted, disarrayed mess and deliberately refusing to care. "If my work had been good enough, he wouldn't need such tender care."

Bruce stood silent beside her a moment, then asked, softly, like a knife swaddled in velvet, "Did you learn that from Dick?"

Raven pressed her lips together to staunch a tremor and watched Terry's chest rise in even, deep breaths. "Self-blame wasn't in his curriculum, no, but it was easy to pick up. He was so good at it, after all. And I'd already had long years schooled in it." There was another quiet pause to allow for the communication landmine she had laid and, sighing through her nose, she stepped around herself. She was far too tired for arguments, especially ones she started. "He would have been disappointed with me tonight. We've trained better than that." She chuckled mirthlessly. "Trained better, fought harder, faced much tougher opponents. And I screw up badly enough to nearly get someone killed."

She had forgotten how Bruce loved his small silences. But he was the one to break this one, his voice dry and amused. "Don't take all of the credit, Raven. Terry screwed up just fine on his own. You both obviously need work, certainly need to learn how to work together, but I wouldn't say either of you were…unsalvageable."

Raven snorted softly, but felt the corner of her mouth tug appreciatively of his gruff, Bruce-style attempt at comforting her. "I suppose that's good to know."

They stood in a quiet more companionable this time, until Raven found her vision of Terry's sleeping face swimming, and realized she rocked unsteadily on her heels. Bruce's gnarled hand was instantly at her elbow, steadying her. "Go, rest. I'll get him put to bed. I may not be fit for the fight anymore, but I can do that much."

Raven stared blearily at him, then nodded. "Wake me up in a couple of hours. I'll need to check on him." Bruce nodded once and shooed her dismissively towards the stairs.

Taking the out gratefully, Raven turned and walked slowly away, fists digging fingernails into her palms. The next few hours of unconsciousness, while necessary, were not the most appealing. Already, she could feel her fledgling bond with Terry fluttering at the edges of her defenses, waiting to ambush her with memories and feelings not her own. It was an intimate invasion she looked forward to not at all, as dreaded as it was unavoidable.

Such grim thoughts got her from the cave to her room, and she fell into bed, eyes closing on the rushing vision of steely blue eyes that beckoned her to look through them.

{{{{{{{{{{{-}}}}}}}}}}}

Terry jolted in the sheets as if woken from a dream of falling, and he gasped a little at the shock of waking so abruptly from dreams—no, _memories_—that weren't his own. He placed his hands on the mattress and slid backwards so that he leaned up against pillow and headboard, the sheets and blanket shuffing down to his waist.

For a long moment, he contemplated the bandages wound around his ribs as his breathing calmed from the nightmare-adrenaline, and the sharp stabs in his sides receded to a dull roar of pain. At long last, he raised his gaze to meet the carefully guarded, dark blue eyes of his bedside watcher, his healer, the girl he suddenly, briefly understood better than even himself.

Groping in his fuzzy, chaotic head for words, he noted the shifty expression on Raven's face, noted that he could _recognize _that slight purse at the corner of her mouth and suggestion of a pucker between her brows as an expression of shiftiness. "I had dreams." He murmured, and only half knew himself what he meant to begin to say.

But Raven was already aware, and despite the clench in her jaw that spoke of a strong desire to lower her gaze, she held his eyes steadily and unflinching. "I'm sorry. It was... necessary. The… bond," there was a sudden twitch in her voice that wept pain and loss, "will fade within a few hours, by morning, latest. I have learned how not to make such…connections… permanent."

"You healed me," Terry spoke again, and could have pulled at his hair in frustration with his apparent ability to make none but the most obvious or vague statements. Where was his snark, his wit? It seemed all cleverness had fled in the place of ache and confsion and understanding.

Raven nodded, a shallow dip of her chin. "Your ribcage was nearly crushed, and there was… other damage. You still have three or four fractures, but I haven't energy enough to do any more than give a quickening boost to your body's own ability to mend."

There was a lapse into silence that stretched for a moment, then a minute, then thickened and tightened and became an eternity. Raven had finally abandoned the blinding searchlight of his gaze and intently studied her torn fingernails and scraped palms, and Terry watched the shading of exhaustion under her eyes, and the shadows of the past in the hollows of her cheeks.

At last, like the final drop that breaks the surface tension in a glass too full of water, Raven bit at the corner of her lower lip and Terry could contain the spill of thoughts and words and world-altering realizations to himself no longer.

"You loved him."

Raven's chin jerked up as if he'd pointed a gun at her face, and his bullets were made of words, and her eyes snapped at him like live wires. She didn't, however, deny his almost-accusation, or feign ignorance of the meaning of his abrupt declaration. She only stared at him, dark blue eyes boring holes in his face, gathering her silence and her thoughts like a shield around the small, trembling, vulnerable center of her. Slowly, she said, "Of course I loved him. He was my greatest friend. He knew me better than sometimes I knew myself. We saved each other's lives on a daily basis, and weathered all kinds of storms over years of living in close quarters. That doesn't foster a small affection, Terry."

He pursed his lips and began to carefully choose his words, when the Titan rose suddenly from her chair and turned to quit the room. Terry moved abruptly to stop her, but stopped himself just as quickly at the scream of protest from his ribs. Grunting slightly, he passed the words he chose from his lips with an urgency, for some reason _needing_ to know, to be sure, of the things he had seen and those he thought he had come to understand.

"No. You _loved_ him, Raven. More than you say. More than you ever said, or ever would have." He was desperate, for some reason, to hear her _say_ it, confirm it from her own lips.

Raven froze at the threshold of the sickroom as if his words were chains that shackled her ankles and weighted her down there. He watched the tension travel up her spine and across her shoulders, into the hand on the doorjamb where the fingers curled tight around the wood, ragged, torn nails scraping against the shined finish. After a moment and a long, shuddering breath, the fingers loosened and the shoulders relaxed, and Raven turned her head just enough to so that he could see a sliver of profile around her hair, and there was a suspicious shine to her eye.

Then, just before she fled from those new, sharp eyes, pale blue eyes that held a familiarity of knowledge that had no place in a stranger's face, she whispered, roughly, "_Of_ _course_ I loved him."

And then she was gone.

* * *

**ANx2: **Thanks for reading, please review! And brief explanation for that last one almost nobody reviewed--it doesn't seem to have a proper ending because it doesn't have an ending! It was posted unfinished and unrevised. Sorry for any confusion.


	17. Love Don't Live Here Anymore

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there.

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy. (This installment is unrequited Raven/Nightwing)

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc. (Here we have Drama)

**Author's Note**: This one's a shorty. Sorry I've been so non-posty lately. I know you guys want more Awkward Entanglements, and I'm trying, I am. As for those who are actually waiting for more Under the Skin, I swear to god it'll happen someday. As soon as I get the chapter opening nailed down properly. -grumbles-

**Summary**: Robin was a boy, a Titan, a friend. Nightwing is a man, alone, a stranger. Or so he would try to be, if only Raven would let him.

**Disclaimer**: I only own the words on the page. This title was borrowed from the song "Love is Dead" by the artist Kerli, and I listened to the song as I wrote.

* * *

She was a whisper through the window, her passing little more than a vague breeze to caress the curtains to life. The exercise in stealth seemed somewhat ludicrous, for the small apartment was empty and she alone but for her shadow.

But this was a place weighed down by a silence like reverence, and she felt pressed to honor the lifeless stillness that pervaded these rooms. Her footsteps fell light and softly, like worshipers' feet on consecrated ground. And in a way, this place was holy to her, a shrine to worship longings and regrets, memories abandoned to the fade of years. She no longer gave her tears in offering, but brought only the hollow ache in her breast for the gods of loss that kept house here to sup upon.

Her fingers trailed along a scuffed table against the wall, her breath coming with just enough substance and sound to be a sigh as she disturbed the fine layer of dust hidden beneath unopened mail.

It was a little silly, the way she treated this place like a church. It was only a cold apartment in a cold city, half its purpose robbed from it by the man who did little more than sleep here infrequently.

She wondered, sometimes, if he knew of, or even guessed at, her occasional visitations. Wondered sometimes if she "lived" here more than he did. But no. If he knew, the window would acquire bars and the door more locks than it already sported, if only to make her actively unwelcome if not truly deny her access.

No, her Priest of Loss never knew she came to worship in his temple, or he might actually break his cold, hard silence to warn her harshly off.

But unknown was at least not unwelcome, so she walked his rooms uninvited, drinking in all details like the pages of a sacred manuscript. The cluttering of newspaper clippings and overstuffed file folders covering his coffee table warmed the emptiness in her chest a little, for this meant he was still somewhat the same. Stepping closer, she noted a black-and-blue painted birdarang marking his place in a book, and the familiar idiosyncrasy brought a small smile to her lips.

It always comforted her to know she still knew him. The hair, the suit, the mask, the attitude, they might all change, but underneath the hardened shell of a man was a boy she remembered better than herself, and the dimensions of his face and frame still showed through this older, bitterer version. He could never change so much she wouldn't recognize him.

She often thought this was why he was so determined to leave her in his past. He had become uncomfortable with being known, with being seen clearly. The thing that grieved her most was that she had never noticed the change, that she had somehow missed all signs.

She never quite understood _why_ the boy who laughed easily with her and touched her casually with no thought at all had become the man who couldn't allow himself any real expression, for whom arm's length was not far enough away from her. She only understood that it was _what_ had become of him.

It seemed almost that one day, he had been Robin, the young man with whom she often shared dreams, whose thoughts and sentences frequently finished or began her own, and the next he was Nightwing, far away in all ways that distance could divide two people. She had become so used to living inside his guard that by the time she had figured out she had been shut outside of it, she had lost the knack for breaking it down.

Raven sighed again, and quit the living room for his bedroom, drawn in by the traces of him that lingered here like the moth to the flickering flame.

Here was a space he more than occupied, a place where muscles unwound and thoughts unbent. The pillow held the indentation where he laid his head to rest, brief hours of vulnerability she suspected he begrudged his human limitations. Her palm slid over the plain cotton of his sheets, under the blanket where he kept warm. She could close her eyes and almost see him, but the image kept getting mistaken for someone younger and softer, a foolish heart's wish confusing the mind's pragmatic eye before she blinked the ghosts away.

Oh, how she _missed_ him.

* * *

**AN:** This may not be the last you see of this, I just don't know. We'll see if it tugs at me. Hoping to hear what you think! Drop me a line?


	18. No Fooling

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. (T? T+?)

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc.

**Author**'**s Note**: And as a sad attempt to make up for my many prolonged absences, two in the stroke of a night! Enjoy.

**Summary**: Speedy doesn't know why Raven's been avoiding him lately, but if he has his way, he's going to find out. If she has _her_ way, he _won_'_t_.

**Disclaimer**: I only own the words on the page.

* * *

"We're not fooling anybody, you know."

Raven closed her eyes in exaggeratedly slow motion, the dark lashes fluttering closed as her forefinger and thumb came up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Sighing, she placed her other hand on the sun-warmed, rusted metal railing in front of her, as if attempting to ground herself—or restrain herself from throttling the tall redhead beside her. "_I _wasn't trying to fool anyone in the _first_ place. What _you_ are doing is none of my business—as I keep trying to tell you."

Speedy leaned on his elbows, back to the railing, and continued as if Raven hadn't spoken. "I mean, people aren't stupid. Just because we're dressed like _this_," here he indicated her skinny jeans, black ballet flats and tank top, and his sneakers, Diesel jeans and blue T-shirt, "instead of ostentatious costumes doesn't mean we don't still look like Speedy and Raven."

Clamping her jaw in an effort not to audibly grind her teeth—which was a terrible habit, besides—Raven tightened both sets of fingers firmly around the rail and hunched her shoulders, turning her head like a snake to glare pointedly at her "companion."

In typical, deliberate fashion, however, the archer seemed to entirely miss the point of said glare and continued staring off into the milling throngs filling the park, grinning with smug self-satisfaction. "You're impressed by my use of the word 'ostentatious', I can tell."

Exasperated, Raven lifted her lips and hissed a sigh through clenched teeth. "Perhaps," she bit off quietly, nearly growling the two syllables, "the reason we're not, as you say, 'fooling anyone', is because _you_ are still wearing your _mask_. I imagine two superheroes in civilian clothing would blend in rather better if one weren't so obviously trying to conceal his identity."

Speedy half-turned to meet her thunderous expression now, trumping her glower with a superior smirk. "Aha, you said _we_." She bared her teeth at him like a predator one shouldn't poke with a stick, and he ignored her. "Besides," he waved her ire away with a careless hand, "you're still wearing your chakra stone. Combine your hair color, style, and forehead jewelry, you're kind of identifiable yourself, Raven."

She narrowed her eyes at him sourly, then wrenched her head around to stare out at the placid waters, silently acceding the point. "Seeing as how you _insisted_ on accompanying me on this little outing, I wouldn't _dream_ of removing my 'forehead jewelry', as you so erroneously described it. It helps me keep in better control of my powers, and you have a way of… trying my control not even Beastboy can match."

Speedy turned fully to face her same direction, his shoulder bumping hers—deliberately—and expressed his own exasperation with a dry tone armed with more edge than he generally employed with her. "I think I'll take that as a compliment." The humor dropped out of his voice with unexpected abruptness, jerking her eyes to his dangerously serious profile. "And I don't care if I'm testing your patience, Raven, you can't avoid me forever."

Raven slid her gaze furtively back to the lake, pretending great interest in the colors the lowering sun painted the waves. "I'm not avoiding you," she muttered. Halfheartedly.

Speedy's disparaging chuckle told her he was no fool. "No, you're full of shit is what you are."

Raven's eyes should have etched his face like acid. "I take exception to that."

Speedy turned to look at her full in the face, and she was taken aback by the irritation in his expression. "Yeah, well, I take exception to you treating me like I've got something nasty that might be catching. You have been _avoiding me_," his tone on those two words was like a finger jabbed at her shoulder, though his hands stayed on the railing, "since Friday night, and I haven't got a _clue_ what the hell I did to piss you off."

Raven felt herself hunching inward defensively at his outright accusations, and straightened and lifted her chin, daring him with her posture to challenge her. "I don't know where you've gotten this absurd idea, Speedy. I'm not mad at you, and I haven't been avoiding you."

She couldn't actually _see_ him roll his eyes, what with the aforementioned mask in place, but she would have bet her life that a greatly exaggerated eye roll accompanied the little toss of his head he gave her. "I'm not even going to _argue_ the avoidance issue anymore, because you have been, period, but if you _aren_'_t_ mad at me, what is it, Rae?" He shrugged his shoulders at her almost mockingly. "If I didn't do something to piss you off, _what_? Do I smell funny? Creep you out on some instinctive level? Does my laugh bother you?" He clapped a hand over his mouth in greatly overdone shock. "That's it, isn't it? I bray like an ass, and it's driven you away from me?"

Raven cut a derisive glance sideways at him, then glared moodily at the sun's reflection on the water. "Stop being so ridiculous. Melodrama definitely doesn't suit you."

Speedy scoffed. "Well, I'm down to absurd guesses at this point, having exhausted all the _logical_ reasons you would try to never be in the same room with me for more than thirty seconds all of a sudden." He waited a moment, but she said nothing, rather guiltily, he thought. "This isn't fair, Raven. We've been good friends for over a year now. _I_ had thought we'd gotten pretty close, but even if I'm wrong, this isn't fair of you. You can't _not_ give me a reason."

She let the following silence stretch taught for a long minute, then sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in surrender. "You're really not going to let this go, are you."

"I'm really not," he deadpanned.

"I wish you would," she murmured, almost wistfully.

"Too much to ask at this point, honey," Speedy chided. "It would be one thing if you just needed space for a while, but if that was what this was, you would have _said_ so already. This, this is something else. And I need to know what. If it wasn't important, you wouldn't be trying this hard to keep it from me."

She gave him an incredulous face for his skewed logic, and he smiled tightly in return. For a moment, it was almost as friendly as usual, but then his features smoothed out into a demanding, waiting expression, and she felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. "This is going to change things, you know," she warned glumly, unconsciously stalling. "Maybe forever." The sharp pang in her chest made her drop her eyes from his, but the intensity of his gaze brought hers back up after only a moment.

The one-sided smirk that curved his mouth was anything but mirthful; just a little bitter, a sharp groove worn into his mouth over long, hard years of experience. "Things always change, Rae. And it's almost always forever."

She sighed, propped her own elbows on the railing and dropped her head into her hands, gently massaging her temples. He really wasn't going to let her out of explaining this. "Friday night," she began slowly, "at the party. I sort of... found something out." She tilted her head back, eyes closed, snorting softly. "Something I probably should have realized a while ago. I guess it's been staring me in the face a while, but... I just didn't see it. I don't even know why I noticed it when I did, when I haven't before, but..."

Speedy let her trail off, but when it became clear she was having trouble finding her train of thought, he prodded her gently. "Well, what was it? What did you find out that's made you avoid me like the plague?"

Raven glanced off to her left, where she could see children playing on swings on the near shore of the lake, bitterness creeping into her tone. "Something I shouldn't know, of course." She looked back to him, at his patient, expectant expression, and squared her jaw. "You asked me to dance, Speedy. and we were all having fun, and I like dancing with you, so I said yes. And I don't know if _I_ was letting my guard down, or if you were, or if you were just feeling things especially strongly then, but..." She just didn't know how to word this without sounding ridiculous. Rolling her eyes heavenward, she watched a puffy white cloud move slowly east and drew a deep breath. "I know. I shouldn't know, because you've never _said_ anything, and that generally means you don't _want_ to say anything, and really, I wasn't _trying_ to pry, but... but I'm an _empath_, and sometimes I just... just..." She lowered her chin, and looked at him from underneath her lashes, feeling guilty and confused and even a little scared. "Sometimes... I just pick things up. So... I _know_."

He had been staring at her patiently while she babbled, but sometime around the trailing and groping for words, his expression had become stiff and frozen. They stood there, staring at each other, for a very long moment. At last, Speedy dropped eye contact and pressed his fingertips into the middle of his forehead. "Aw, shit." Raven felt her cheeks fire up when he took a long, deep breath through his nose. "_Shit_. I should have fucking known. Damn."

She lowered her own gaze to her fingers on the railing, and started picking at a rusty flake on the iron with her fingernail. She heard him shift his weight, thump his knuckles idly on the rail.

"Well. This is kinda awkward."

She let him collect himself for a moment. "Speedy..._why_ didn't you tell me?" She glanced back up to find him watching her with the most serious expression she'd ever seen him wear—very, very serious, and a little poleaxed. "Why didn't you tell me you were in love with me?"

He flinched a little when she said the actual words, but otherwise steeled himself, spine straight andf chin up. "Because... because I didn't want something like _this_ to happen." He tossed his hands. "I mean, now that you know, how do you feel about it?"

"I..." She looked at him, searchingly, then, brow crumpling, she ran her hand through her hair. "I don't _know_. I just.... don't know."

"Yeah," he said, quietly and a little grimly. He turned, and stared into the water. "That's why I didn't tell you."

* * *

**AN:** This was going to be a lot longer, originally, and possibly multi-chaptered. It just sort of... never got further than this. I hope you like it anyways.


	19. Like the Angel

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. (T)

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc.

**Author**'**s Note**: Went digging through some old stuff and found this utterly forgotten on my hard drive. Was originally supposed to be an AU, I believe, but could be taken as a series regular type, I suppose. Now, it's a bit old, mind, and though Em kindly gave it a once over all that time ago, I didn't really incorporate many of the edits she suggested, as I don't particularly intend to continue this. A first person from Raven's point of you, rare for me in fanfiction. Hope you don't hate it.

**Summary**: "I didn't like facing those searching eyes when I lied to them and they believed me." Raven is in love, and he'll never know, because she'll never tell him.

**Disclaimer**: I only own the words on the page.

* * *

_And like the angel you are you laugh, creating_

_ A lightness in my chest _

_Your eyes they penetrate me_

_ (Never cease to amaze me)_

_ And that's when I got up and left_

**Rise Against – Like the Angel**

We sat on my bed, surrounded by all the post-its and scraps of paper on which he'd scribbled down thoughts, notes, clues, speculations, sifting through the convoluted mess and trying to find the missing link that pulled the puzzle together.

How long had we been at this, with no results?

I blinked gritty eyes and made my nightstand clock come into focus, then waited as the green digital numbers processed from my eyes to my brain. "Three seventeen?" It was mumbled, but Dick looked up sharply at me, then at the clock, doing an almost comical double take.

"Whoa. Shit. Sorry, Rae. I didn't realize…" Dick ran his fingers through his spiky mess of hair, making it an even more hopeless wreck. Dragging his hands down his face, he sighed, weariness and frustration making the breath long and ragged. "This is driving me nuts."

I looked at him solemnly, or with as much solemnity as I could muster at three in the morning with no sleep for the past thirty-six hours. "Yeah. It is."

He looked at me from between his fingers, his brows drawn, blue eyes quiet and careful.

I pursed my lips, held his gaze. "Don't let this consume you, Dick. You get so wrapped up in your obsessions…" I felt my brows pinch together in displeasure, smoothed them into nonchalance again. "It's always a bitch for all involved, and then I have to drag you out of them."

Despite his caution, how guarded he always was, I could read him so well. So well. His words shifted behind his eyes, things he wanted to say and things he should say. He was silent a long moment, his eyes going still on me as he decided how to arrange his empty promises today.

Taking his hands from his face, he dropped them casually on my shoulders, trying to reassure me with the little touches I only ever accepted from him. "Look, Raven. It's gonna be fine. This is just bugging me, that's all. You know I always like to know what's going on. I can handle this, it's totally cool."

I clenched my jaw, compressed my lips into a thin line, dropped my eyes to the cluttered coverlet and nodded tersely. I allowed him his excuses, because tonight I was too tired to keep running at a brick wall, and because I was always too indulgent with him.

His hands remained, and I let the warmth of his loose fingers ease my shoulder muscles, let the soothing familiarity of his aura lap over mine like a hot bath. He always got to me this way. I always let him get away with the things that would kill him someday, because it was so hard to deny him. He had me so completely wrapped around his finger, and it was impossible to resent him for it, because he didn't even know.

My face must have hinted some edge of my thoughts, because his hands squeezed once, then fell away, one finger coming up to chuck me under the chin, to make me meet his eyes again.

I sat there, looking at him, waiting for him to say what he was thinking or to let it pass, drinking in every second his attention was focused solely on me.

"Are you okay, Raven? You're quiet, even for you." His head canted to one side, his gaze studying me in earnest concern. "Are you getting sick, maybe?"

I forced a reassuring tilt of my lips, shaking my head and looking away again; I didn't like facing those searching eyes when I lied to them and they believed me. "I'm fine, Dick. Just tired. If I don't get some sleep, I don't know, _now_, I'm going to be useless and horrible all day."

He smiled, accepting my sardonic half-truths and gathering the things he'd scattered all over my bedspread. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I kept you up so late, I really didn't mean to." He arched his back and yawned, and I tried not to stare too obviously at the strip of abdomen bared by his shirt's hemline.

Waving my hand dismissively, I murmured, "It's nothing; better I be with you to shake you out of your tangles occasionally than for you to be doing this by yourself."

He grinned and made no comment on that. "Well, you get some sleep. You're all worn out, and you worry me when you're anything but formidable."

I tilted my chin in mock indignation. "I, Boy Blunder, am _always_ formidable."

He chuckled, stood stiffly, stretching. "Yeah, yeah. Get to bed, Rae. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night."

Though I turned out the lights and lay down under my blankets, I did not drop immediately into sleep. I lay, staring into the darkness beyond my pillow, that hollow place inside me aching dully.

For such a dogged, brilliant detective, I hurt at how easily I deceived him, at how blind he was to what must be so obvious, so right in front of him.

But if I had my way, if I played the game correctly and never tipped my hand, his eyes would never open to the house of cards, and he would never have to know how often I lied to him.

* * *

"You're in love with him."

Garfield stated it matter-of-factly, no hint of question in his tone or phrasing. I sat with him on the low wall, staring at the dying sundown. Slowly, after a long pause where I reconciled myself to the fact that everything was altered now, but not yet unsalvageable, I nodded.

"Does he know?"

My jaw clenched, and I forced my teeth to unclamp, sliding the word quietly from my tongue. "No."

"And?" Garfield's voice was neutral; he knew how to play carefully as well, and he was testing me very gently.

I turned to stare at him, meeting those green eyes that were for once devoid of all hint of laughter, and were instead serious and, almost, calm. I held his gaze for a long moment, waiting till he had recognized the steel in my own eyes, the determined set of my mouth and jaw.

"And he never will."

* * *

_Let me know what you think, lovies. It cheers my heart on the sad days (which is every day)._


	20. New Year's Eve

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. (K)

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc.

**Author**'**s Note**: Sooo... I know I haven't posted anything, in, well... _forever_... but, seeing as I'm more or less retired from fanfiction writing these days (please don't shoot me), I decided to rummage around my hard drive for the thing bits and pieces I'd fiddled with and left for later further fiddling, and never posted. Have some! :D Let's start with something festively appropriate; the beginning of what was meant to be a fluffy shot at slight Rob/Rae New Year's ficlet.

**Summary**: Not even Raven can refuse an invitation to a Bruce Wayne New Year's party, and with best friend Robin as arm-candy, what could possibly go wrong?

**Disclaimer**: I own only the words on the page.

:::::::::::::::

The party was lovely, of course. There would be nothing less hosted at Wayne Manor, particularly not on the eve of the new year. Strings of small, elegant white lights were draped all around the margins of the ceiling, glittering in the shadowy eaves like stars and twining round the great room's columns like fairy lights. High in a hidden musician's gallery, a small string band wafted down ethereally beautiful music to complement the soft chatter of the mingling guests.

Raven stood just apart from it all in her simple black party dress, surveying the scene the party planner had set with an appreciative eye. Leave it to Bruce—or Alfred, on his behalf—to hire nothing but the best, even for a gathering smaller and more intimate than was customary for Wayne Manor at the holidays.

She had been a little surprised to receive the invitation, but if she had seen the guest list, she thought she might at least have hesitated less to RSVP. Despite her social misgivings—this was no gathering of capes or cowls, despite the number of Titans, Leaguers and associates present—she had decided it unwise to reject such a polite summons from the man the Batman pretended to be. Besides, she had always quite liked Alfred, and it had been some time since she had seen him.

As it was, with each face or pair of eyes or aura she recognized, she felt more and more at ease with this crowd. Dress and heels or boots and cloak, she was Raven to these people, whatever connotations that carried. There was no need for grander pretense than to nod politely at Zatanna from across the room.

Robin—or Richard, as she had begun to call him, at least privately, since he had begun the transition from Boy Wonder to Nightwing—eased up beside her, and she smiled at the warm wash of familiarity his presence brought.

"Lovely," he murmured.

Without turning to him, she ducked her chin agreeably. "Bruce always has had good taste in décor, or at least in event coordinators."

He chuckled, and she slanted a look at him. "Don't be deliberately dense, Raven, you know I meant you."

She looked back out to the crowd and shrugged one shoulder dismissively. "It's only a dress, Richard. You clean up well, as always," she indicated his sharp cut Italian tux, the suit jacket of which he had discarded, managing to look casually expensive.

He snorted amusement. "'Only a dress', she says. And makeup, and heels, and a diamond necklace, and a fashionable updo. How come you only ever dress up for Bruce?"

Raven rolled her eyes and twisted her mouth at him. "I wear makeup frequently, the diamond is on loan from Bruce, and the dress is a plain cocktail number. And I dress up when we visit Bruce because I find him intimidating, and you know that."

"Tch," Richard scoffed. "A little blush and eyeliner every day is _not _makeup, Raven, and as a girl you should know that. And a dress is a dress, and you look amazing. I'm going to have to rescue you again from Roy, just wait and see. Anyway, the point is, I was complimenting you, so just shut up and take it."

Raven laughed at his mock sullen tone. "Fine, compliment accepted. And guarding me from inebriated archers is your duty as my best friend, as we can't expect Vic to abandon Karen to defend my honor. Since Kori's absent from the solar system at the moment, that leaves you dateless and makes you _my_ escort. And all that that entails."

Richard was the one to chuckle at her this time. "All that that entails, huh? So how come you always dodge me when I ask for a dance?"

"Because I'm a terrible dancer and want to spare your toes?" She shot back smartly, eyes roving the glittering soirée once again.

"Lies!" He exclaimed. "You dance exquisitely, and the next time you want to cop that line, maybe you should try it on someone who didn't _teach you how_." He grinned at her. "You're just stubborn, and wouldn't be dragged into participating in something festive kicking and screaming if your life depended on it."

It was she who scoffed this time. "Not if _your _life depended on it, even."

He paused for a moment, thoughtful, then ventured a question, smiling boyishly. "If the fate of the _world_ depended on it?"

She tilted her head to one side, pretending to consider the possibility. "Maybe if the _world_ depended on it. But for nothing less than national security, certainly."

"Well," he said, "of course not. That's perfectly reasonable."

"I thought so, too," she nodded, and smiled at him over their little joke.

Honestly, having her longtime best friend with her went a long way to making this event bearable, almost enjoyable, even. They had eased into their comfortable relationship over long, hard years, and she could hardly imagine life without the supporting pillar of Richard's friendship holding it up in the center.

A soft throat-clearing interrupted her reverie, and Raven turned questioning eyes on Richard, eyes that turned wary and suspicious at the cat-ate-canary grin he wore. "Raven," there was barely-checked laughter in his voice, and smugness, "did you even realize where you've been standing?"

:::::::::::::::

**AN2**: Aaand I do believe they were meant to be standing under some mistletoe leftover from Christmas, as a rather contrived, if cutesy, way to insert the romantic tinglies with a kiss. Do forgive the boringness and brevity, please!


	21. Coming Undone

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. (K)

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc.

**Author**'**s Note**: Have some more! This one was just a random teeny thing that didn't feel like a fic on its own, so I never posted it by itself. So, alas, it is shuffled into the Unfinished Business deck, and I hope you like it anyways.

**Summary**: Robin and Raven discuss frailties, envy, and the down side of super.

**Disclaimer**: I own only the words on the page.

::::::::::::

"I can't believe you actually _did_ that," Raven chuckled, shaking her head at Robin with eyes slanted merrily. "You just _threw_ yourself under Cinderblock like you thought you were unbreakable. You're the most fragile of us, remember?"

Robin rolled his eyes at her teasing, but by his side on the carpet, his hand twisted a tight fist around his discarded mask, a jolt of resentment and envy spiking through his ribcage at the light reminder. "You say that like you think I don't know. I can't let my limitations hold me back, Rae; it just means I have even more to make up for."

They sat in Raven's bedroom in the small hours of the night, secluded by their low voices and the small pool of light the lone lamp on the bed stand puddled around them. The mood until now had been loose and easy as they engaged in small talk and made jokes and light mockery of each other, but once the conversation had turned to the somewhat hilarious—and slightly alarming—events of their recent bout with the local cement villain, shoulders and tones had begun to tighten and tense.

Now, there was a little pause in which Robin eyed a loose thread on the sleeve of Raven's sweatshirt, and Raven chewed her lip. At last, she sucked in a little breath, and turned to look at him, deciding to confront the small issue before it became too big. "You have less to prove than you think, you know. There's no need to be dangerously reckless when, even without powers, you know you're easily the best of us."

Robin's blue eyes shot up to her face in a moment of questioning surprise, because Raven was never one for polite flattery, but then he looked away, uncomfortable with the honest certainty in her face that she spoke true. "Yeah, well. So _you _say. Either way, you can't really blame me for a little jealousy now and then. Some of the powers you all have... I imagine it must be an amazing feeling."

Raven drew her outstretched legs up and looped her arms loosely about them, staring at her knees. He said that so easily that she knew he didn't mean to hurt her, and with how blatantly joyous Starfire was to have her abilities, it was an easy enough mistake to make. She told herself this, but the cold spot in her chest still flinched at the words he spoke. "I suppose some of us make it seem that way."

Robin, who had already begun to realize his blunder, tried to backpedal quickly, and turned a warm smile on his closest friend. "Come on, Raven. Isn't there something you love about what you can do?"

She only shrugged.

"Anything?" She didn't move at all, which was worse, and he groped in his mind for some sort of olive branch. "What about flying? I mean... my family might have been called the Flying Graysons, but we were short distance sprinters to your marathon. Moving freely in the air, not having to answer to gravity... maybe I'm missing something, but it really just seems like it'd be awesome, to me."

He _was_missing something. Raven didn't look at him, only rested her chin on her knees, letting her hair slide forward to obscure her profile. He really, truly couldn't understand how flight, the freest metaphor in human imagination, could be anything but wonderful. "Really?"

Raven's shoulders hitched like she'd been hit, the incredulity in his question making her feel... defective. Like she was even farther from human than she'd thought, for being unable to relate. She felt she owed him some explanation. "I don't really like to fly," she murmured into the cotton of her pajama pants. With Robin's sharp ears, she knew he would hear her, and she wasn't sure she could say this at a normal volume, anyways. She always felt like speaking too loudly of these things lent them more weight, more reality.

She could feel him waiting, wondering _why_. "Before that day… flying was about control, and focus, too much for it to be… _fun…_ But now, after… It reminds me... the feeling of flying... the weightlessness, no ground under your feet to stand on, completely supported by nothing but air... the way my stomach drops, and there's nothing to grip on to... it all reminds me very much of how it felt to come undone. When I stopped being a person and became a doorway. That feeling of powerlessness against something bigger than you that _will_ have its way... it's very much the same."

"Oh," The single syllable was an awkward exhalation, and Robin stared ahead of him, knowing he had really stuck his foot in it this time.

What was he supposed to _say_to that? What could possibly be said?

He glanced over at Raven, at the way she had made herself into something small and compact, like she was trying to hide at the same time as trying desperately to keep her own shape. He hesitated, only a moment, and then, hoping it would be welcome, he reached out and took one of her hands that locked around her calves.

Her fingers laced with his, accepting what he had to offer, and he knew there was nothing he _could_ say. And so maybe he didn't have to say anything at all.


	22. Touchy Feely Nerdy

**Rating**: M, because some of this stuff will probably get up there. (T)

**Pairings**: Multiple, but mainly Raven/Robin, Raven/Red X, and possibly some Raven/Speedy

**Genre**: We'll be running the gamut, but there will be romance (or the seeds of) in most. Others will include Drama, Tragedy, Humor, etc.

**Author**'**s Note**: And for my next trick! I give you fluffy Speedy/Raven-ish-ness with some random nerdy candy coating. You need not be familiar with the LOTR books for this, but it's slightly helpful to be at least passing familiar with the movie trilogy. If you've ever geeked out over anything (and you're _here_, so, y'know, I'm assuming), you really know all you need to know.

**Summary**: Raven and Speedy geek out, and Speedy can't keep his hands to himself.

**Disclaimer**: I own only the words on the page.

::::::::::::

"But honestly, as good as the movies were, they just couldn't have possibly even _hoped _to encompass the sheer breadth of history and magnificence of Tolkien's vision," said Raven, shrugging one shoulder almost dismissively. Speedy was learning that what Raven lacked in facial expressiveness, she often made up for in the subtleties of body language.

"All right, I'll give you that, sure." Speedy nodded his head in concession, shifting his weight on his elbows to switch the uncomfortable knot of his sweats' drawstring where it dug into his hipbone. He was lying on his stomach on the plushly carpeted floor of the Titans East common room, Raven situated crosswise next to him, back leaned against the couch. The two were entirely alone at this ungodly hour, both stricken with a case of insomnia they had mutually decided to assuage with a DVD marathon. The movies had ended, Speedy made a casual comment accidentally revealing himself as a well-read Tolkienite, and the conversation had spun wildly out of control from there. "But you have to admit, there's no way in hell a cinematic feature, even a whole _trilogy_, could ever go into that much depth of detail. It'd take an entire television miniseries, or even a multi-season series, with a full-term feature film-size budget to cover the whole, unedited tale of the Lord of the Rings, not even mentioning all of Middle Earth."

"True," Raven admitted slowly, fingers picking at the carpet pile absently. "And while I'm sure such an endeavor would have massive financial returns and possibly epic fan appeal, I can also concede that no production company would ever be able to secure the initial funding for such an undertaking."

"Well, then, can you _finally_ admit that the movies were awesome in their own right?" Speedy asked archly, reaching out and laying a palm heavily over her fingers to stop them incessantly _picking_ at the rug.

Raven glanced down sharply at his hand over hers, pursing her lips and quirking one brow, as much an expression of reproach and askance as she ever wore. When Speedy only grinned cheekily at her, pressing her fingers harder into the floor, she rolled her eyes and grudgingly replied, "Well, I wouldn't necessarily choose the word '_awesome_'… but considering how badly the books _could_ have been butchered, I'll say Mr. Jackson did quite well indeed." She looked sidelong at his wry expression, and the curve at the corner of her mouth was almost a smirk. "And besides," her tone was positively _snarky_, "Orlando Bloom did make pleasing viewing, what with the tights, and the legs, and the running…"

Speedy laughed, his fingers lifting off her hand and absently running thumb and forefinger along the sides of her pinky, as if measuring the width. "Hey, Legolas was an archer, you know, and my uniform leggings are damn near tight enough to _be _tights."

She watched his fingers play with her littlest digit with a vaguely bemused line between her brows. "If only you had long blond hair and a slightly British accent, I could _almost _pretend. Alas, you've got the vowels and consonants of Anywhere, America, and short red hair. But don't worry, at least you're probably better with a bow than Orlando."

"_Probably_?" Speedy scoffed under his breath, then moved on, dismissing the suggestion for the ludicrous notion it was, all the while tracing the shape of the fingernail on Raven's middle finger. "Surely _Orlie_ wasn't the only thing you liked about the movies."

Raven chuckled silently at his brief offense, forgetting to shoot him a stern look for his sudden phalange fixation. "Well, the landscapes _were_ breathtaking." She paused, lips making a sudden, quick curl of amusement. "And it was delightfully ironic that Radagast the Brown's cinematic debut was as a _moth_."

"Eh," Speedy shrugged, verbally and physically, "The guy's, like, a footnote in almost every book written about Middle Earth. He probably doesn't mind not being splashed on the big screen for all to see, the grumpy old hermit."

"He's a fictional character, Speedy, of course he doesn't mind," she chided playfully—then blinked at the sensation of his hand loosely encircling her wrist. "What are you _doing_?"

Speedy missed the confused exasperation in her eyes, so intent was he on the amount of space between his fingers and her wrist when he made an "o" with forefinger and thumb touching. "You're so tiny!" His voice was irrationally incredulous, as if her delicate build was an elaborate joke being played on him. "It's like I could snap your wrist like a twig."

Raven tugged at her wrist to no avail, his two-finger grip refusing to budge. "Well, you couldn't, and if you tried I would be forced to hurt you," she snipped irritably.

He snorted and held her arm aloft, marveling over the supple limb as if he'd never seen it before. "You're so damn little it doesn't seem like you should be _able_ to hurt me." His eyes flicked over in time to catch her face freezing in a dangerous visage, a slightly murderous glint in her eye, and he rushed to add, "I mean, I _know_ you could kick my ass, I've seen you fight—"

"I _have_ kicked your ass before," she interrupted through bared teeth.

"—But it just doesn't seem like you should be able to. I guess I never paid attention before, but the way you're built, it makes me think 'fragile' and 'delicate' and stuff."

Raven felt only more aggravated when her cheeks flushed. His familiar handling was more than a little disconcerting, not least because it bothered her so much less than she thought it should. Aside from the occasional bone-crushing hug from Starfire or comradely shoulder-clap from Robin, no one just… touched her like this. As if someone else's skin on hers was completely within the realm of the plausible, instead of the highly unlikely and nigh unthinkable. "I am _not _fragile, nor am I delicate. I happen to be able to take quite a lot of damage, more than you, even, and I have never been some waifish model-thin stick figure."

Speedy snorted again and finally released her wrist, only to wrap his fingers around the firm, well-toned bicep bared by her sleeveless tank-top. "Oh, I know you're strong, and half-demonic healing abilities or not, you're certainly tough." He took his hand off her arm and traced the backs of his fingers suddenly down her side from ribcage to hip, following the pronounced curve of her waist. "And you're _definitely _no stick figure," he chuckled.

The trail of his knuckles down her side raised a tide of gooseflesh from the nape of her neck to her ankles, and she found herself momentarily dumbstruck and flame-cheeked under his inscrutable smirk and twinkling blue eyes.


End file.
